


you are a stranger here (why have you come?)

by lacunia



Series: stranger things x sally face series [1]
Category: Sally Face (Video Games), Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Multi, more to come - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2020-07-19 21:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 51,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19980859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacunia/pseuds/lacunia
Summary: ﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋sal fisher had nearly been convinced by terrence addison to kill every resident in Addison Apartments. but then he had refused, and had woken up in a town called Hawkins in the year of 1984.﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋- stranger things (season two).- sally face (before the slaughter).





	1. knife.

**•——◤✧◥——•**

**⑉ ONE ⑉**

**— (** knife. **)**

 **— (** 26/07/2019 **)**

**•——◣✧◢——•**

**The** world was white.

As clear and pristine as the reflection of water. As blinding as the bright sun in summer.

"I've been waiting for you, Sal." Terrence says. The real Terrence Addison. Not the gross, slimy green slug-like creature that Sal had just hopefully ended.

This Terrence wore pale green pants and an orange top, with a beige cap on. He was short, though Sal wasn't one to judge when it came to height.

The man stepped forward slightly, his shadow falling onto a hollow ground. Sal swallowed, trying not to inch backwards. Yes, he was probably the least skittish around ghosts in his friend group (or what was left of it), but that didn't mean some weren't eerie to be around.

Terrence halted, his eyes gazing at Sal, glassy and peculiar, "I knew you would be the one," He said, soft and muffled, "I knew from the moment i saw you."

Sal blinked his one eye, a shiver going up his spine. Why him? Why was he always the one? The one that had to suffer? To be alone? Isolated from the world? The young adult opened his mouth from behind his prosthetic, saying, "Terrence?" He didn't acknowledge the previous words that had been stated.

Terrence paused, blinking before saying, "My apologies, good sir."

' _I see he hasn't lost his polite vocab_ ,' Sal thought, eyeing him.

"I haven't been..." Terrence started off, humming quietly before speaking again, "..quite myself. I've caused so much pain."

"Is it over now?" Sal asked, fidgeting slightly. What exactly did that mean though? He couldn't just forget this. Forget all that has happened, with losing Larry and the revelations he had faced today. He couldn't just go home and call it a day. No. How would he be able to?

The ghost in front of him suddenly sighed, his eyes and shoulders dropping slowly, "Almost, I'm afraid there is one more task remaining. And it is a...er...hideous one."

Sal shook his head, his blue hair staying stiff in place due to the mask bands, "Whatever it is...i'll do it. Whatever it takes to end this for good."

Terrence halted in speaking, and stared at Sal for a moment. The ghost smiled softly in fondness, before frowning deeply.

"You must kill all those who have been tainted by The Dark."

Sal breathed in sharply, almost wincing when his face stung. The young adult shook his head slightly, puzzled, "But...that's everyone in this building...Those are my friends. My family!" He continued on, ignoring him when Terrence opened his mouth, "We've cleared the darkness from their souls! We've already saved them!"

He looked desperately at Terrence as the ghost said, "I'm afraid it's too late for them, Sal. Their souls are destroyed beyond repair. If left unchecked, the shadow will seep through these cracks and many more lives will be extinguished."

Sal didn't say anything. He couldn't say anything.

Terrence looked at Sal, and he seemed to recognize the pure horror in his eye, "My heart weighs heavy in sorrow for you. I know you will lose everything, just as i had many years ago."

Sal breathed in, his chest heaving as he slowly fell to his knees, "I...I don't think i can do this...please. Please don't make me do this, Terrence." He shuddered, a tear forming in his eye.

"It is your choice to make," Terrence said quietly, "I know it's an extraordinary burden to bear but...i also know that you will do the right thing."

"I-" Sal went to say, but then Terrence shook his head lightly, and he was gone, leaving behind a knife.

Sal stared at it, his heart beating fast as he tried to make sense of what was happening. What should he do? What would happen if he didn't pick up the knife? Would he be left in this world, gone because he couldn't kill innocent people?

He sat up, and the knife seemed to get closer and closer, until he was bending down and picking it up. It was light, yet Sal felt as though the whole world weighed on it's blade. He stared at it, making out his own blurry appearance on it.

He gazed at his blue, tangled hair and for a moment, he saw his father staring back at him.

His father was a man who used alcohol to get away from his thoughts. He had been through so much, and had his own tactics of dealing with it. Though some were not that appropriate, Sal could still respect him for always having a smile. And he seemed so much happier now that he had gotten together with Lisa. How would Sal be able to take that away from him? That type of happiness was rare.

Sal breathed in, closed his eye and dropped the knife. It banged against the ground, and then Sal was standing in Terrence's room again, surrounded by the oozing slime and stinky smell.

He hung his shoulders, saying softly to no one in particular, "I can't."

"I can't do it."

And then he was falling backwards-into the floor. As though a snake had collided against his leg and dragged him down to hell.

Sal reached his hands forward, reaching for some unknown thing. Anything to help him.

But then he was laying on his back, staring at the stars and the tree's that loomed over him. 


	2. stars, prosthetics and pumpkins.

**•——◤✧◥——•**

**⑉ TWO ⑉**

**— (** stars, prosthetics and pumpkins — **MADMAX )**

 **— (** 30/07/2019 **)**

**•——◣✧◢——•**

**The** stars glared down at him as Sal tried to regain control of his breathing.

His heart thumped against his chest, and Sal attempted to sit up. His ears rang, and he let out a groan, the sound muffled from behind his prosthetic. Sal slowly edged onto his feet, leaning against a tree as he rubbed a hand through his hair. He felt a shiver climb up his back, and Sal turned to gaze around the forest.

"Terrence?" Sal called out, is voice cracking. The 20 year old exhaled and tried again, "Terrence?" But no answer came. He felt tempted to try and summon the mysterious phantom he suspected was Jim, but pushed the thought away. Jim would come when he wanted to.

Sal rubbed his hands together, cold in the brisk air, and he stepped forward as he wondered where he actually was.He looked over his shoulder when he heard the sound of pop-like music and he narrowed his eye. Sal began walking gradually towards the noise, slightly limping on one leg and it seemed as though the fall had hurt it.

Sal paused when he spotted a cat, which also halted to stare at him. The cat was a ginger, like Gizmo, but it had much more ruffled and messy fur. It meowed, and the ringing in Sal's ears stopped and he was stuck in a memory.

His father was standing in front of him, young and holding a small and gentle smile. He held out his arms, revealing a ginger and white-patched kitten cradling in them. Sal, youthful and happy, reached out in surprised and yelped in happiness. Gizmo jumped into his lap straight away, and the two were best friends at sight.

Sal blinked away the memory, and returned his gaze to the cat, to see it was gone. He let out a sigh, continuing towards the music.

Sal whacked a tree branch away as he spotted what seemed to be an...arcade? But it seemed so odd and different from the arcades that Sal usually saw. He shrugged and breathed in, and was about to continue forward but the branch came back so fast that it hit him straight in the face.

Sal let out a groan, stepping back and, although tempted, resisted the urge to rub his eye. The young adult scratched his head and—this time—ducked under the branch. He looked both ways before he quickly crossed the road.

Sal swiftly walked around two people, who gave him odd looks, which he was used to. The two whispered to each other before shuffling away from him. He wondered briefly when someone would say that it's not Halloween.

The 20 year old turned his gaze upon the large, retro sign that said in a very bright font, ' **ARCADE** '. Sal narrowed his eye, and then gazed around at the people. Some were excited kids entering the arcade, whispering in muffled tones to each other as their disapproving and bored older sibling watched them—their eyes showing they would rather be at a friends house or party. Some parents were waving goodbye, shouting instructions or some just driving off without another thought.

But, what really caught Sal off guard was the outfits, transportation and the hairstyles. The bowl cuts on the young boys, the odd fashion sense everyone seemed to have and all the old 80's cars and bicycles.

Sal felt surprise itch through him as he thought—not for the first time—if time travel was actually real.

After all he'd been through, it wouldn't surprise him if it was.

Sal stepped towards the windows of the arcade, which had loads of plastered posters. One poster started off in an obnoxious font ' _the BRAND NEW—_ ' but had obviously been torn to pieces. Sal squinted in slight annoyance and leaned forward, scanning through the small piece of article that had fortunately been spared. Somewhere along the lines of it, the words ' _it is set to be released on November 20th, 1984_.' could be seen.

Sal let out an exhale, shuddering slightly. He was 19 years into the past, and there was most likely —' _assuming that I still existed in this..dimension?_ ' his thought lingered,— a one-year old baby Sal in New Jersey with his living mother, non-alcoholic father and his normal, non-fucked up face!

Sal let out yet another sigh and ran his hands through his messy blue hair, looking over his shoulder. He spotted a dark-coloured car drive in close to the entrance, and saw a young boy, who looked eager to get out, but was getting fussed over by his mother.

Sal glanced over to a group of three other boys who had just showed up and gotten off their bikes, and they were all looking over at the other boy as he raced out of the car excitedly. The boy runs over to them, and they all stampede into the arcade entrance. One boy with a colourful cap on paused in their steps, as though sensing being watched. He turned and looked straight at Sal, who quickly pretended to look at the posters again. The boy narrowed his eyes, but was pushed inside by his friends.

Sal let out a breath, fiddling with the straps at the back of his head.

What was he going to do?

 **•————•**

**A** thought runs through Sal's mind, and he lets out a shaky breath. He inhales sharply, the action almost painful, and rubs at the top of his blue hair. He wondered what would happen if he called his old families phone number? Would he be able to hear his mothers voice again? Sal tries to push the reckless idea away, but the chance of hearing his mother's calming and gentle voice is an...extremely tempting idea that he may be willing to go through with. Sure, it would most likely open up old wounds and probably make him feel worse than he already does-but, again, it's his _mother._ The lady who was young and didn't deserve to die like how she did. 

Sal's feet are moving towards the arcade, where he could possibly ask if they had a phone he could borrow. But then again, it was 1984, would the old telephones be able to reach wherever his parents were? He disregarded the question that could possibly ruin his terrible plan. The 20 year old pushed open the door, seeing two young kids eye him out of the corner of his eye. The colour of his hair was already bizarre enough, but the add of his mask probably made him look like some lunatic. _It wouldn't be far off,_ He grumpily thought, and halted near the entrance. He narrowed his eye, and realised it was a mistake to enter the arcade. It was a mistake to even think talking to his mother was a good idea. Like seriously? Anyone who had seen _any_ time travel movie _ever_ knew getting in contact with family wasn't a good or rational concept, like, hello-rifts in time? Sal wrapped his arms around himself, about to walk outside again when a boy with a bowl cut tore outside, their eyes seemingly far away. Sal curiously watched after him, but turned around at the sound of the voice.

It was the boy that had gazed at him outside the door before, and he had a dark-skinned boy standing beside him. Sal took a moment to think about he was barely taller than the two, but the boy cleared his throat importantly and said, "Hi. My name's Dustin, and i couldn't help but wonder what's up with the whole-" The kid, Dustin, gestured to his own face and said, "Y'know, mask thing." He paused before jokingly adding, "It's not halloween yet." 

Sal refrained from snarkingly saying that he hasn't heard that one before, summoning whatever patience he had left his body, and instead stated plainly, "It's a prosthetic." 

Dustins' eyes widened, and the other boy elbowed his friend and scolded him with a tempered, " _Dude!_ What the hell?" Dustin replied with a, "What? How the hell was i supposed to know?" The other kid replied with something, but Sal was too busy rolling his eye to listen to what was said. 

Sal stepped outside, welcoming the small breeze that flew past him. He closed his eye for a second, before reopening it and gazing at the bowl-cut boy, who was frozen in place. Before he could do anything more, it seemed as though the world suddenly...glitched and he was standing in a dark and ruined dimension of the one he was currently in. The sky was red, a storm raging in the clouds. Sal stepped back in surprise, his eye widening. He had expected something odd to happen sooner or later, but this was earlier than he thought. He squinted and looked at the boy, who was still standing there, but this time Sal was met with the scared eyes meeting his. And then there was a flash, a quick, questioning, "Will?" and everything went back to normal-well, as normal as it could be with Sal. A black haired boy had his hand on the other's shoulder, and he was speaking in a muffled voice to his friend, who Sal assumed was named Will. Said kid was staring at him, and the black-haired one followed his gaze and narrowed it as he landed his own eyes on Sal. The blue-haired individual frowned under his mask, and turned around before walking in a different direction, hearing the arcade door close as the two boys most likely went back inside.

Sal halted and rubbed at the back of his head, a headache splitting through his mind. He walked over to a couple of people and asked them, as politely he could muster, where the nearest hotel location was, and they told him, albeit they where a bit mildly terrified and confused on why he was wearing a mask and had bright blue hair. Sal ignored their stares, and set off to where he was pointed to. 

**•————•**

Sal arrived at a small, boring oak brown ' **HOTEL HAWKINS** ", which honestly looked as shady as what Addison Apartments was becoming. Sal puffed out, digging around his back pocket for any cash. He luckily had some money on him-shame he had no phone, then he could _really_ weird out the residents of this place. He let out a breath and pushed the door open, a small signalling his entrance. He glanced up at it before setting his eyes on the front desk, spotting an old women sipping a cup of unflattering tea. She looked up from her book when he entered, and gave a jump. 

"Oh dear! What a frightful-" She then halted in her words, hand going to her mouth and Sal felt _sick_. Those words were so similar to what Terrance had first said when they had met, and he was reminded of all the things that had went down seemingly yesterday. He blinked, wishing he could rub at his temples, but instead chose to ignore his headache. The women regained herself before forcing a smile on, saying, "You're not here to kill anyone, right?" At his surprised pose, she quickly added, "Well, I mean the mask is kind of peculiar, dear. Say, why is your face covered up?" 

Sal thanked whatever god was watching over him that she didn't make a halloween joke like Dustin, but then wondered if the murder inquiry was worse-which he decided that it was-before he stated with patience, "Er, it's a prosthetic. Sorry for the fright?" 

The women then furiously shook her head, "No, don't be sorry. It was silly of me to be so rude. Let's start over?" She suggested, and Sal quickly nodded-once again reminded of Terrance. She then smiled saying, "I'm Amanda. Are you here for a room?" 

Sal nodded again, and pulled out some money, "How long would this get me? I just need a bed and bathroom." 

Amanda hummed and sorted through the pile, "That's about four nights," She then added, "My place here is pretty cheap because of how run-down it is, so it's your lucky night." Sal awkwardly nodded to this, and she handed him a key that had the number 27 on it. He let out a sigh of relief that it wasn't 402, but then berated himself for the thought because such a small place wouldn't go into the 400's.

"Floor two," She offered, when he didn't move. He gave her a nod, and she went back to reading. The 20-year-old walked over to a shady elevator and pressed the number 2 and soon, he was opening up the room with the silver 27 on it. The room was small, but at least i was clean. It had a single bed against a wall with a large window that was covered with brown curtains. The ground was carpet, but he assumed if he opened up the bathroom he would be met with tiles. He locked the door behind himself and flicked the light switch on, ignoring a twitch of hunger that went through his body. Sal slipped inside the bathroom, almost expecting to see Meghan grinning up at him. He frowned and felt a twinge of grief speed through him, along with the growing hunger. It was no surprise that he was hungry, and extremely tired, because it seemed fighting against a giant slug monster does that to you, and his body was mostly just running on pure adrenaline that was running out. 

He had a quick shower and tied his hair up in a quick bun, placing his prosthetic on the bedside table. After turning off the lights and double-checking the locked door, as well as taking off his shoes, he was nearly dead on his feet. The 20-year-old was asleep before his head hit the pillow, but unfortunately he expected a ripe new pile of nightmares to torment him. 

When Sal wakes up, he gasps and looks around wildly, trying to remember where he was. For a moment, he thinks he's in the house he shares...or shared...with Neil and Todd, excited for Larry to move in. But then he remembers that Larry's dead. That Todd and Neil and most likely everyone else are also dead because he couldn't save them. Because he wasn't brave enough or clever enough. He groans and shoves his pillow over his head, his eye snapping close. Once his mini meltdown is over, he let's his mind trace over his dreams of odd pumpkin patches and red storms.

**•————•**

**As** Sal was making himself toast-using the cheap accessories that were provided-he tried to disregard a desperate urge in the back of his head. Whilst he had been sleeping, the 20-year-old had dreamed of odd pumpkin patches, with the pumpkins being destroyed and almost diseased. Maggots and alike were flying around the gross vegetables, and a distressed man looked around. Sal had stood near a bush, the sun glaring down at him. He had a clear view of where he was, according to a sign with ' **HALLOWEEN PUMPKIN SALES** '. Then, he had woke up and was now trying to ignore the tempt that wanted him to go and investigate the place in his dream.

He scratched at his blur hair and let out a sigh, quickly cleaning up the plate he had used in the bathroom sink. He placed it back in the cupboard near his bed, and grabbed his prosthetic. _Do I really want to get dragged back into another mystery?_ Sal wondered lightly, eyeing the sky outside that he expected to turn red at any moment. 

"I've got nothing better to do," He crossly huffed, and snatched up two stray hair ties on the bedside table. Sal quickly tied his hair up into two signature pigtails, not really thinking nor caring about 1980's male stereotypes and expectations. He put his prosthetic on and unlocked the door, his key and left over money in his hand. The blue-haired boy locked the door and closed it, heading towards the elevator. He made it to the ground floor without it malfunctioning (as it looked close to doing so), he bid Amanda good-bye, though he noticed her surprise look as she saw the pigtails. Sal exited the hotel, squinting his one eye as it landed on the sun, reminding him of his dream. He began to walk over to what he assumed was a taxi, which had a tall man leaning against it. 

As Sal halted and asked if he could catch a ride, the man nodded, although he did look a bit hesitant. Sal hopped in the taxi, and stated where he wished to go-which was replied with a nod. The car ride was relatively long, and he handed over the required money. The taxi man glanced out his window at the pumpkin patch, saying, "Look's like you're pumpkins are dead."

"Mind staying so i can catch a ride home?" Sal asked, though he cringed as he smelt the terrible, dead-like scent that the place gave off. 

"Fine." The taxi driver shrugged, although annoyed. He pulled out a newspaper from the backseat, adding, "Just don't take too long."

Sal sighed, and began following the urge which was getting stronger and stronger. He spotted another car driving towards the farm and quickened his pace, and soon he was standing in front of a scarecrow that had a small, black crow staring at him. Sal looked around, hearing voices in the distant-talking about the pumpkins. The 20-year-old let out a small grumble, trying to figure out what had led him here. 

And not soon after that, there was a near-silent whisper behind him, and Sal _almost_ jumped when he saw a ghost forming. It was a transparent man who was wearing classic farming clothes, his eyes bulging out of his head. The ghost had a small smile as it whispered something else. Sal breathed in, and forced himself to ask, "Why am I here?" He didn't really know what he meant by the question-why was he drawn here, or why did he travel back in time to this specific town? 

The ghoul said something again, and Sal grew annoyed as he still couldn't hear him. And then it went quiet as footsteps started getting closer. Sal looked in the direction and back at the ghost, who finally said, "Your energy. It's peculiar." And then the ghost melted back into the ground, and Sal was alone. 

The crow chirped, and Sal turned around just in time to see a man-who wore a badge-take off his sunglasses to stare at him. Sal eyed the gun that the man had his hand on, and he unconsciously stepped back. The man narrowed his eyes and stood up straighter, "Who are you?" 

Sal thought for a second. There really wasn't much point in saying a fake name, as no one really knew he existed. "Sal Fisher," He replied quietly, and the man nodded. 

"Did you have anything to do with those pumpkins out there?" He asked, and Sal felt as though he was being interrogated for a moment.

Sal shook his head and coughed out a quick lie, as he was pretty good at those as no one could see his face and therefore not see if he was lying or not, "Uh, no. I came here for the pumpkin sale. Halloween decorations and all." 

The adult nodded his head again and gestured to Sal's face, squinting and tilting his head. He then questioned, "What's up with your mask?" 

"It's a prosthetic." Sal stated, and shuffled his feet. 

"Really?" The man said dryly, "Pretty advanced for a prosthetic." 

Sal blinked his eye, because, yeah, he guessed it was. Before he could reply, another man's voice yelled out, "Everything alright out there, Chief?" 

The man, who was now revealed as a police officer, looked over his shoulder and replied with, "Everything's fine." He then glanced back at Sal suspiciously, before mumbling a, "Go." 

Sal nodded briskly and quickly left, returning to the taxi who took off the second he entered. 

**•————•**

Will Byers laid back on the hospital bed, talking of what had happened in his recent episode. 

"To kill you?" Dr Owens inquired, squinting at the boy as he squeezed his stress ball. Joyce and Hopper glanced at each other, and the mother rubbed Will's hand reassuringly. 

"Not me," Will stated, eyeing the roof, "Everyone else." 

The tense atmosphere in the room got even odder, and Owens leaned back in his chair, thinking Will was done, but the boy continued. "But there was another thing. There was another person there, which usually never happens. I'm always alone in the visions," He said quietly, and Joyce tensed. 

"Who was this person?" Hopper asked, and Dr Owens glanced at him. Hopper ignored the man, and Will looked over at Hopper. "I don't really remember. But they had...blue hair?"

Everyone in the room raised their eyebrows for a second, and one of the doctors in the room placed a hand over their mouth, as though they didn't believe the boy. Joyce blinked.

Hopper leaned back on his heels, letting out a stressed breath.

Dr Owens returned his attention to Jim, saying curiously, "You've met this person?" 

Hopper rubbed at his temple, and picked up his hat off a bench near him, "Yeah." He didn't provide any other information. 

A moment later, Joyce, Hopper and Dr Owens stand in the hallway. 

"I thought you said these were just episodes. Fake hallucinations his mind has made up," Joyce said, her eyes wide, "But now you're telling me he has seen another real-life person in these visions?" 

Dr Owens shuffled his feet, tilting his head slowly as he said with gestured hands, "He may have just seen this person before, and his brain may have just placed this specific person in his episode." He was about to continue, but then Joyce interrupted. 

" _May_ have? _May_?" 

Hopper let out a sigh, placing a hand on Joyce's shoulder to comfort her. 

**•————•**

Sal sat on his bed, thinking over what the ghost had said to him. The 20-year-old let out a shaky sigh, and he wished that his friends were with him. 

A pang of grief shouldered it's way into his stomach. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is pretty short, but actually for a reason. i'm trying to figure out a way to kind of introduce sal to the characters but i'm having difficulty lmao. would anyone mind commenting some ideas for interactions sal could have and such? thank you ûwû
> 
> edit: 'madmax' chapters have been merged together!


	3. panic and phantoms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: FIRST PART OF THE CHAPTER HAS PROBABLY ALREADY BEEN READ!!   
> I've been merging chapters together to make them longer and so each chapter is an episode so please take note of this :)   
> enjoy!!!

•——◤✧◥——•

⑉ **THREE** ⑉

— ( panic and phantoms — **TRICK OR TREAT, FREAK** )

— ( 03/05/2020)

•——◣✧◢——•

 **A** bird chirping near the window made Sal jolt awake, his eye wide and scanning the room, alert. The first thing he noticed was a peculiar feeling in his stomach, oddly similar to that of a panic attack of sorts-but it was distant, as though it was someone else's. He inhaled a breath of fresh hair, shaking his head to get the stormy feeling to go away, but to no avail. The 20-year-old sighed, running a hand through his hair. He let his eye drag over to the alarm clock and raised his eyebrows, seeing it was fairly late into the morning. 

"I suppose I better get ready," He said to himself, musing on the fact that there was really nothing stopping him from rolling over and going back to sleep, as he didn't have anymore 'leads' to follow. But with the feeling in his stomach, he knew that there was no point in even _trying_ to go to sleep. Sal then got up and realised, with another near-muted sigh, that his time in the hotel was running out and he didn't have anymore money _and_ Sal has only retrieved more questions than answers in this town. 

After he was changed and had his prosthetic firmly on, Sal left his room to go downstairs. When the elevator dinged and he exited, he was met with Amanda arguing with a young girl. 

"What am I suppose to do with you gone? The rest of the staff will be busy with school and family, and I myself can't handle cleaning this whole place myself!" Amanda said loudly, gesturing her arms out in an exasperated manner.

The girl glared, spitting out, "It's a small hotel, Amanda! I'm sure you'll manage!" And then she softened her expression and added, "I can't give up on this work opportunity, I'm sorry." 

Amanda narrowed her eyes, and then the girl snatched up a bag and walked out of the door, the bell dinging loudly. 

Amanda let out a grumble and turned around, but jumped when she saw Sal. She held her hand to her chest and closed her eyes for a moment, stating, "You scared me for a second." She then awkwardly asked, "You sat all that, didn't you?" 

Sal nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, and Amanda sheepishly smiled before changing the subject, "Going out today, dear?" 

He nodded and started to make his way to the door when Amanda added, "I also couldn't help but notice how empty your cupboard was when I was cleaning the other day. Take some of my left over cash and get some food, will you?" 

"Oh, no, I couldn't," He tried to deny, but Amanda was already stuffing some money into his hands.

"I insist." She said with a smile and twinkled eyes.

Sal nodded kindly and pushed against the door, about to leave, but an abrupt idea blossomed in his head. 

"Hey, Amanda?" He asked, and said lady turned over to him with a questioning face. 

"You wouldn't happen to have a job opening, would you?" He fiddled with the strap on the back of his head, not missing the way Amanda blinked, surprised. 

For a moment, there was silence, and Sal was afraid he was going to be denied-as it wouldn't be the first time, not many shops wanted employees with a _face_ prosthetic on their staff. But then Amanda grinned, saying, "The job is just a simple cleaning job with no big requirements, so I'd say it's yours! Just do a quick clean up of the rooms and lobby every evening, and you'll get a free room for as long as you need and payment in return."

The women was nearly so generous it was heart-breaking, but Sal could do nothing but accept with glee. He left soon after that, the sun welcoming him as he left the hotel. The blue-haired adult looked down at the money in his hand and began to walk in the direction of the busy town, content with the fact that no one seemed to stare at him as much today, as it was Halloween and everyone was kind of dressed up. Sal stumbled across rocky and gravel road and he was soon met with a small grocery shop and bought two bags worth of food, quickly deciding he had enough food when his eye traveled over to a pack of bologna (which ruined his appetite.) Then, near the shop he was just in was a fairly big convenience store, with what seemed to have a cheap-looking game boy on one of the shelves. Sal prayed it was what he thought and entered it, eagerly stepping over to it. He missed he way the brown-haired lady at the counter stared at him. 

Sal bent down to get it off the racks, grinning under his mask when it was a game boy-although a little out dated compared to his own, even more so against the Super Game Boy. Sal checked the price tag and quickly got a walkie talkie set for the antennas he needed, as well as some other gadgets he could remember Todd using when he created the advanced ghost detector. A pang sliced through him as he remembered Todd; was his friend alright? After all, he hadn't been affected by Red Eyes like the rest of Addison Apartment. But for all Sal knew, everyone he had known was dead, or didn't even exist anymore. The panic attack feeling came back again, this time strong and Sal felt as though it was actually his own this time. He quickly shook his head, counting to ten inside his head and shaking his shoulders.

He brought his purchases up to the counter, and greeted the women politely. The women had slight wrinkles, pale eye bags, a kind face and long, messy brown hair and bangs. She said a 'hello' in response and seemed to glance at him a second too long, but Sal noticed that her eyes were on his hair, not his prosthetic. He decided he had enough to worry about and disregarded the action.

Sal was soon back on the gravel road, carting his bags with him. He was lost in thought as he stared at the ground, and startled at the sound of loud voices in front of him. In his trance-like-sate, he must have not noticed three, young, vibrant boys on bikes. Sal realised they were the ones from the arcade, excluding the brown-haired boy. Oddly enough, they were all dressed in ghost buster uniforms, and Sal wondered if it was normal to wear costumes in the day. He tightened his grip on his bags, leaning his head to the ground when suddenly music met his ears. 

It was a loud song, and he turned around in time to see a dark navy car speed past him. A red-haired boy and girl sat in the car, the girl seizing the steering wheel away from the boy and swiftly turning it away from the three boys on bikes, only just missing them. They all tumbled onto the grass, and Sal quickly walked over to them, hearing the boy with the cap mumble out, "Madmax." 

The black-haired boy turned around to stare at Sal as he asked the trio, "Are you okay?" 

They all mumbled out hesitant and soft 'yes's', and Sal blinked. He then shuffled out his feet and nodded quickly, turning around to leave as they all settled back onto their bikes. "Okay," He murmured, before continuing on his way back, the boys now riding ahead of him. 

**•————•**

Sal sat on his bed, fiddling around with the gear boy. He tries to ignore the pounding in his heart as he turns it on, almost expecting to see the lives of Alyson Rosenberg and her allies play out again. He swallows thickly and glances around at the antenna he had snatched off of the walkie talkies. Sal was about to get started on his project, but his room was suddenly left in darkness when all the lights turned off. He blinked, eye narrowing. 

The panic attack feeling returned, and he almost expected Red Eyes to start shouldering it's way into his room. But of course he didn't, and Sal r _eally needed to get a grip on himself and calm down._

But then his eyes flashed and he was suddenly in gross, dark and odd version of his room, particles of something or other floating around. He breathed in a shocked gasp, feeling as though he was in Terrences' room, before he was sitting back on his bed in his normal-looking room. The boy felt the panic attack feeling return, stronger than it had been all day-and it reminded him of the urge to go to the pumpkin patch. He put the in progress Super Gear Boy down and stood up, putting his mask on. 

Sal soon found himself outside, walking past groups and groups of kids who were in Halloween costumes, and after a few minutes or so he was in a rich-looking neighborhood, his eyes swarming over the waves of children-trying to pinpoint where he was being led to. He then saw the bowl-haired kid from the arcade running, and a flash of the alternate dimension flashed in his eyes again before returning to normal. He ran after him, ignoring surprised kids. 

He walked behind a house, finding the boy sitting down and hunching over his knees. The black-haired boy in the ghost buster uniform was saying, "Will?" repeatedly, and Sal quickly sat next to them. He received a few confused glances from the boy and three other kids, but he disregarded them. Sal said swiftly, "Try not to make him panic. Just get him to try and breath normally, otherwise you might alert him further." 

The black-haired boy nodded, although nervously, and did as he was told, asking Will to match his breaths. One of the other brown-haired boys asked with a high-pitched voice, "Mike?" and Sal assumed that was the black-haired boy. 

Said boy ignored him and then, suddenly Will blinked and met Sal's eyes. Sal breathed in and said, "Count to ten. It'll help." 

Mike looked over at him as the bowl-cutted boy mumbled out the numbers, getting calmer as he went. 

After a moment passed, Will said quietly, "Thank you." 

"How did you know what to do?" One of the boys standing up asked as Sal stood up. 

All the eyes turned over to look at him and he said, "My friend used to get panic attacks a lot, I picked up on a few things to help him." Sal pushed down a memory of Larry crouched up in the treehouse, his fathers photo sitting near him. 

Mike helped Will up, and then looked over at him again, his eyes wide as he asked, "Who are you?" 

There wasn’t really a range of choices for Sal to make in this situation, really.

He could either lie and tell the group of kids in front of him that he was not a time-travelling, ghost-seeing individual, but a perfectly normal young adult who works at a hotel part-time. Or he could tell the truth, and Sal doesn’t know why he was leaning towards that choice more.

Maybe it was because the Will kid was staring at him like he knew him, with eyes flecked with curiosity and surprise, eyebrows etching down and hand holding onto the other boys, Mike, arm.

Sal tried to ignore the itching under his skin, as though a worm had dug under it, as though he was back with his friends, hunting for the ghosts and their stories, all of them scared except for Sal. It was a familiar feeling, buzzing and distant, usually meaning someone or something was near.

He looked to his feet for a second, trying to resist the urge to fiddle with the straps at the back of his head. He glanced back up, seeing Mike share a look with one of the other boys, untrusting and wary.

The 20-year-old let out a sigh before taking in a breath and introducing himself, “I’m Sal, moved here from New Jersey not that long ago.”

Mike turned back to him, an unreadable emotion swimming across his face before he cleared his throat, “I’m Mike, this is Will.” Sal pretended like he hadn’t already known that.

“Lucas,” another boy standing over with two other kids stated, before turning to glance at a red-headed girl, who had an extremely apprehensive look on her face, “and this is Max.”

She slapped his shoulder, choosing to introduce herself as the boy yelped slightly, “I’m Max Mayfield.”

Sal barely had time to register the names before yet another boy pushed his way forward, holding out to handshake. Sal shook his hand, recognising the boy from the arcade who had joked about his prosthetic, and he had a toothy grin as he talked, “Dustin Henderson, though I suppose you already know that, because I told you before. I wanted to, on my own impulse and totally not forced to by my friends, apologise for rudely asking about your prosthetic.”

Sal raised an eyebrow, because he didn’t really believe it was ‘ _on his own impulse_ ’ but couldn’t be bothered arguing as he heard Lucas let out an exasperated sigh.

“Thanks, I guess,” Sal said dryly, trying to hold down the sarcastic comments he really wanted to say. 

Dustin had calculating eyes as he seemed to study him, putting his hands to his hips. A moment passed before he was talking again, “I’m sorry, but I have to ask, do you have true sight?”

“What?” The blue-haired boy asked, and for a moment he could care less about the kid’s feelings. _Why on Earth would I have true sight? Where did that question come from?_

“Because of, y’know,” Dustin waved his hands up to his own hair, “your hair.”

Sal stared at him again, wondering if Dustin had a filter when it came to talking to strangers, “No. I don’t have true sight because of my blue hair.”

“Why do you have blue hair then?”

Sal wondered if Dustin was ever taught manners as he answered, “Genetics? I don’t know. I was born with it.”

This time Max snorted, eyes alight, “That’s impossible.”

 _I never want kids,_ Sal thought, glancing over at the girl as he replied to her, “Say that to my baby photos.”

There was silence for a moment as no one talked, but then Dustin took in another breath.

“You’re sure you’re not a mind reader?” he was met with a shake of the head, “Druid? No? Odd. What about Seer? Y’know, seeing the future? Hm. Weird. You _definitely_ look like the type.”

“Sorry to disappoint?” Sal said, shrugging his shoulders slightly, feeling a little defensive as Dustin _hm’ed_ at him. Lucas walked up and nudged Dustin away, causing the boy to nearly trip over his feet.

Sal turned, glancing over at Will, who was now looking at his shoes, looking tired and odd. Sal blinked, and tried to ignore the part of his mind that was screaming, sick of not knowing why he was feeling connected to this group of kids, why he keep seeing them, why he was here at all and why he wasn’t home _and why he wasn’t happy he just wanted to be happy why couldn’t he be happy whywhywhycouldn’thebehap_

Sal was snapped out of his sudden trance by Dustin clicking his fingers in front of his face.

“Yo, you listening to me? I am asking extremely important questions here. Data, information, knowledge, you get the gist,” Dustin had managed to worm his way back over to Sal and was waving his hands as he talked.

As Sal returned his gaze back to the boy, Max let out a bored sigh before Dustin repeated his question, “How did you find us?”

“It’s Halloween, Nerd. He was probably getting candy or something,” Max inputted, and Sal spared her a glance.

Dustin looked at her, flailing his arms up and down for a moment, “I know, Max. It’s just because we’ve seen him a lot these past few days.” He suddenly stepped closer, eyes narrowed as Sal leaned back slightly, “What’re you hiding? What secrets do you have? It’s mind reading, right? Can I see your wrist really quick?”

Sal had never met someone like this. Sure, Larry is... _was_...an inquisitive type, but he never really meant any of it. Sal could tell whether he was joking or not, but right at this moment it seemed he had lost that ability to tell that with people. _Who the hell asked to see someone’s wrist?_

“Dustin.” Mike murmured, and they all looked to see his eyes downcast, fogged over as though reliving a memory.

“I’m not hiding any secrets, and I don’t...have anything on my wrist?” Sal offered as a response, Dustin glancing back at his friends, “I was just doing something for my boss and saw you guys.” He was kind of ashamed how easily he slipped into the lie.

“Oh.” Was all that came from Dustin’s mouth, and he looked stumped. Sal wondered why he so desperately wanted to have it revealed he had mind reading or druid or whatever it was powers.

Sal fiddled with his back strap, “I better get back. It’s late.” As Sal began to walk away, he heard an annoyed Mike question Dustin, as well as Max snorting.

The 20-year-old pushed pass groups of kids on his way back, eventually reaching the end of the rich neighbourhood. He glanced down at his feet when he walked, trying not to make eye contact with others even though not many others were around.

It was only when his heart started to thump loud in his ears that he realised something was wrong. It felt like his entire mouth had gone dry, his tongue sandpaper and teeth paper mache, hands numb and legs tingling. It was an odd feeling, as though he wasn’t actually standing on the ground, just a transparent figure melting slowly down the ground.

Sal turned his head, abruptly causing the feeling to pause, as though he had cut it with a knife, as though he had pushed through a barrier, as though he was in control of something for the first time.

Silence. All around him.

Loud, pulsing silence.

Sal looked around, trying to not let the buzzing in his ears consume him whole, eye looking everywhere and nowhere continuously. It was weird; something felt so wrong. But he didn’t know what. Didn’t know where.

And then a shadow moved out of place, quick like a rabbit, and Sal felt as though his mind was about to explode as he gave chase.

“Terrence?” Sal called; the only hope he had. It had to be Terrence. It had to be. He had to help him; Sal needed answers. Needed to know he wasn’t alone forever.

“Terrence?” He tried again. And again. And again. Nothing. Always nothing. Sal stopped moving, stopped pacing, started thinking.

Of course, it wasn’t Terrence. He was gone, in a whole other dimension, probably. Sal didn’t want to get his hopes about his family still existing in this realm, the possibility that his friends could be born. He didn’t know if he could take it if he was wrong.

 _Idiot,_ Sal scolded himself, drooping his eyes and continuing his trek back home, _why did I even think it was Terrence? Why would he even help me? He’s the one that sent me here in the first place. Most likely. I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore._

But then there was a noise. A...growl, of sorts.

His first thought was Red-Eye. Red-Eye coming back to finish off what he started. Then his second thought was another _Idiot, stop it,_ and his third was the realisation that it was indeed Halloween, and there were kids littering the streets, most likely wanting to play a trick on a pedestrian.

God, he sounded like his father making up excuses to ignore the actual problem.

However, Sal went with the idea, ignoring the growling bush and going home with near-dragging feet.

**•————•**

Sal pushed the door to ‘ **HOTEL HAWKINS** ’ open, ignoring the bell ring as he nodded to Amanda, who was sleepily reading a magazine. She smiled back, tilting her head to the bowl of chocolates and treats on the counter.

“Want one, dear?” She sounded so much like Lisa; Sal could have winced. Would have, had he not stopped himself to respond.

“No thanks. I’m heading up to bed, have a nice night.” Amanda nodded again, looking back to her book as Sal walked over to the elevator, a yawn trying to escape him.

As he entered his room, the entirety of his exhaustion vanished, leaving him to stare at the middle of his room with a wide eye.

Jim Johnson, the phantom, the alien, hovering in his room like a glitch in the Earth, barely visible and fading in and out. Sal stared; what else could he do? Jim didn’t talk, just fought against something as his face showed struggling emotions.

Sal forced himself to speak, his voice hoarse and weird as he questioned, “Jim? What...how...what are you... _how_? What the fuck is happening?”

The flicker of the man faced him, delight ghosting over his face as he said, barely coherent, “Sal. y-a-o-x-y-o-c-cc-sk-g-da-d-h-d. Sal. I can’t. c-c-a-b-b-l.”

“You’re...I can’t understand you,” Sal whispered, feeling as though he might faint but pushing against it, “I can’t understand you!”

“Sal.” The voice was suddenly clear for a moment, but something was still off. It seemed to be pushed out, forced out as though Jim was still fighting against something, “You need to listen clearly. y-a-g-t-b-a-a-a-l. You. You are going to be alone. For a very long time. i-n-y-t-b-s-s-s-t-o-p-p-e. I need you to help. They are going to need your help. Be. Be. Be.”

“What?” Sal cried out, staring at the glitching figure, “Please just take me home. I want to go home!”

“Sal. Be ready. Be strong.”

“No! No, wait! I don’t want to help anyone else; I’m done! I’m done! Wait!”

And then Jim was gone. And it was quiet. No glitching in the room, no voices, no white light, or black light. Just... _gone_.

Sal fell to the ground, crumpled, and sat for a long time. His prosthetic was discarded and on the ground next to him, his face needing to breath as he stared at the roof.

Nothing made sense. Nothing. And apparently now he was going to be alone for a very long time, according to Jim. He didn’t want that. He never wanted any of this.

And then Sal forced himself to stand up and get in bed, too scared to turn off the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Been a while, yeah?  
> First of all, I am so so sorry. I haven't updated this story and I doubt hardly any of you even remember it. I just lost so much inspiration and couldn't even force myself to write, but last night I got a little inspiration for this story, so here's a chapter for what I hope is going to turn into many more.  
> Second of all, I'm once again so sorry for how short this chapter is. I promise all the chapters from here on are going to be long, and I'll push myself to make them come out earlier because of my hiatus of sorts. I still have school, but I'm pretty caught up and can do school work quickly.  
> Third of all, it's so nice to be back! I forgot how much I missed writing this book and cannot wait for more. Please feel free to comment any ideas you have for this story, or just anything in general!  
> Hopefully there will be more chapters very soon after I plan a little bit more :)  
> \----  
> ask me anything on tumblr! @lacuniaa


	4. dreams and darings.

**•——** **◤** **✧◥** **——•**

**⑉** **FOUR** **⑉**

**— (** dreams and darings — **THE POLLYWOG )**

**— (** 06/05/2020 **)**

**•——** **◣** **✧◢** **——•**

The dreams he had could be described as worse than bad.

They were a tangled mess of green slime, green tentacles, red shadows, red sky, blood, blood, crying, screaming, thrashing, _possessing_. And then he had snapped awake, breath stuck in his throat and heart in his ears.

Sal had stumbled into the bathroom, grasped the sides of the sink, stared down the drain with his left eye. And he tried to breathe. Tried to ignore how thirsty he was, how his stomach was curling in on itself.

He tried to ignore how alone he felt.

Sal didn’t bother looking in the mirror as he stood as straight as he could, his legs shaky and wobbling as he chose to lean against the wall. He shoved his head into his hands, and for a moment he stood-sat like that. And he tried to breathe, to focus on anything other than the emotions that were accelerating.

But after a moment, he realised he couldn’t stay like this all morning.

So, Sal stood back up, breathing as deep as he could before going back to his room, arms limp at his side. He peeked through the blinds, meeting a bright sun and blue sky, which sadly did nothing for his emotions. He glanced at the alarm clock on his bedside table, seeing a digital red **2:20** displayed on it.

Sal had somehow managed to sleep into the afternoon even with the awful dreams, and he sighed, putting his mask on with dragging arms. He didn’t bother doing his hair, leaving it down in a messy mop.

_I should go for a walk,_ he decided almost abruptly, _could clear my head, even though I’m pretty sure that’s a myth._

Sal spared a glance at the unassembled Super Gear Boy on his bedside table, the antenna still not attached. He would have to continue building it later.

Walking down to the elevator was almost an ethereal experience, Sal feeling as though he was floating in his feet as the ground vanished like smoke, and for a moment he couldn’t help but wonder if that was how Jim felt as a phantom.

Sal entered the elevator, going down to the ground floor as it binged a cheerful tune, Amanda craning her head to see who it was entering the lobby.

“Hey Sal, what’s on the agenda today?” She went back to her relaxed posture, hands laced around a white, plain mug with steam coming out from it.

Sal leaned forward slightly, replying with the go-to, “Not much. Just going for a walk, see you soon.” She waved her hand slightly, watching as he left the building.

Cold air hit him as he walked down the side path, and he glanced up at the people around him for a second, seeing a person with electric blonde hair not that far away from him.

It jolted a memory in him, and he tried to push it away. He didn’t need to remember anything; it would hurt too much. Yet it prevailed, a quick flashback to a memory of high school. Of running around the hallways, looking for the clues of the bologna. Of finding a crying Travis in the toilet, his voice defeated as he talked.

But that wasn’t where the relentless memory stopped, repeating The Endless One’s voice, taunting and treacherous. Repeating the ghost of Larry, the ghost of Alyson Rosenberg and the ghost of those he hadn’t been able to save. Hadn’t been able to kill. He wondered if his world was gone now; infected by the Dark One. Infected by Sal’s selfishness. Why couldn’t he have just killed them? Ended their suffering, put them down?

_Stop it,_ Sal thought, eyes trained on the ground, _stop thinking like that. There’s nothing I can do now. It’s over. It’s in the past. Or the future. Whatever._

He straightened up, pushing the memory away as he looked around. Sal had somehow ended up near the rich neighbourhood, taking the path he used to walk home the night before.

Once again, his mind wandered away from him, and he started to think again.

_I wonder why I’m connected to that Will kids’ visions or whatever they are,_ Sal thought, not realising he had halted on the path, _it’s weird. Why does this stuff always happen to me?_

He frowned, shoving his hands in his pockets, and went to walk again when a car appeared closer, driving his way. Sal watched as it halted beside him, and he turned around to face the driver.

It was the police officer he had seen from the pumpkin sales, his eyebrows furrowed down, sunglasses covering his eyes. The man seemed to have a large piece of paper on his lap, though Sal’s one eye couldn’t quite see what was displayed on it. Sal noticed how he had a badge on now, and Sal assumed the name below it, ‘ **Chief Hopper** ’, to be his name.

Hopper blinked a him slowly before asking, “What’re you doing out here?”

Sal tried not to ask if going for a walk is illegal, instead replying with, “Going for a walk.”

“By standing in the middle of a sideway?”

Sal shuffled his feet, trying not to roll his eye as Hopper narrowed his own. _Why is he so...suspicious of me?_ Sal thought, thinking of something he could say back.

“Going for a walk _and_ thinking.” Sal corrected himself, and the Chief nodded slowly, still giving him an odd look in the eye. For a second, Sal was tempted to give one back, but knew it would result in a...non-ideal situation.

Hopper then directed his head up the road in front of him, glancing at Sal as he asked, “Where are you staying at the moment? I haven’t heard of any recent house openings.” Sal could tell he tried to disguise his words as idle chat, but the 20-year-old saw how the cop was trying to get information out of him.

Sal knew it wouldn’t be best to lie to the man, telling him, “I’m staying at Amanda’s Hotel Hawkins. I’ve got a job there.”

The man nodded, eyes still calculating. He then let out a sigh, grabbing his gear stick. Hopper met eyes with Sal again before driving off again, leaving the blue-haired-boy to watch after him.

_What an odd man,_ Sal mused to himself, _probably because he’s slightly polite, and not like the cult members posing as police officers that one time._

He couldn’t help but wonder how he came to the point in life where that sentence made sense to him.

Sal was about to continue walking down the quiet road when a familiar growl tore through the silence, causing him to almost jump. Almost. Sal would have stopped to think about how he never jolted or jumped anymore, but he didn’t have time to as a bush from across him started rustling.

The growl sounded almost dysmorphic, croaky, and crackling as another one sounded. Sal tried not to move as his thoughts started racing.

_It’s obviously not Red-Eye. He doesn’t make bushes move. He just kills people,_ Sal stared at the nature in front of him, trying to think of what he could do.

The bush rattled again, and then a dog-sized creature ran at him.

Sal fell to the ground with a grunt, the animal on top of him, reaching out with stubbed legs. Sal placed his hands around its’ throat with a yelp, trying to push it off him. But then it managed to roar, and it’s face _literally opened up._ Rows of tiny teeth leaned down to him, almost scratching his mask. It smelt _terrible_.

_Oh my god,_ Sal thought, _I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die._

Panic was racing through him, anxiety and fear pulsing side-to-side with his heart as he struggled with the creature. He wished for more than anything that he could go home. Back to his friends. His family. Back to how it was, even if that included the cult, the ghosts, the demons, the prophecy, and the confusion.

He’d do it all over again if it meant this bloody alien dog would get off of him. 

And then there was anger running throughout Sal, and he felt it. Electricity. Energy. A blue light, instead of the blinding white one.

The creature let out a whimper, jolting before stiffening. It went limp against Sal’s hands, and he hissed as the animal almost fell face first on him. He pushed the carcass off of him, shakily dragging himself away. His hands tingled as he stared at the creature.

It had a mouth for a face, its head opened up in seemingly flower formation, teeth layered on the skin. It was an iridescent colour, bursts of an olive green mixed with a mauve purple littered on it. The creature also had spots of beige and a burgundy underbelly, ebony claws protruding out of its feet. It didn’t seem to have eyes, and Sal couldn’t help but notice how it seemed...kind of deformed, not whole.

Its skin was a weird texture, looking as though it was peeling in a painful way. One of its legs was shorter than the others, and Sal stared at the new marks that travelled across its skin. Burns. Scalding burns of electricity.

Sal curled in on himself, his heart racing. How had he done that? He had never, not once, in his _entire_ horrible life, done whatever that was. What had he done exactly? It was weird. He felt weird. Distant, foggy, blurry. Glitching.

He forced himself to stand up, quicker than he intended, as he tried to focus. Where on Earth had that creature came from? Why did it attack him? How did Sal kill it? How? How? _How?_

Sal looked around, eye scanning. Luckily, no one was gaping at him or the dead animal, so he allowed himself to relax for a second. Allowed himself to calm down and think.

Sal quickly grabbed the shoulders of the carcass, grateful for his prosthetic as it protected him from the stench of the dead creature. He gradually dragged into the bushes behind him, knowing it hardly did anything and would obviously be revealed if someone decided to be curious. He shoved a fallen branch over it, as well as some damp leaves before deciding it would be enough.

Walking back to the hotel was a struggle, as Sal fought against the urge to think, think, and think. To question himself and everything he thought he knew. Had he always been able to do _that_?

Sure, it wasn’t an everyday thing to be able to commune to ghosts, and Sal and his friends knew he had always ‘attracted’ them the most, but to be able to...seemingly shoot electricity out of his hands? He had never, ever, done that. And if he had known, not in a million years would he have thought that he would use them against what looked to be The Endless Ones pet.

Sal snapped himself out of it as he walked into Hotel Hawkins, Amanda absent from her usual spot. It was quiet, which wasn’t particularly unusual, and he started to make his way to the elevator, feeling as though he could drop dead on his bed at any moment, even though he doubted it was hardly any later than 3.

He reached the elevator, tapping his foot as the elevator music hummed from the sound box, slightly scratchy and distorted. The machine stopped on his level, and Sal made his way to his room, leaning against the wall.

Before entering, he made sure to put the ‘do not disturb’ icon on the doorhandle, and then fell against the door when he did enter.

Exhaustion gripped at him, trying to drag him down with it even though he hadn’t been awake very long. But it felt as though his mind had been chasing something the entire morning, as though there was too much going on inside his head and he just needed a break.

He couldn’t stop replaying the memory of the dog creature attacking him, violent and growling and slimy and _melting under his hands_ —he needed to breathe.

Sal took his prosthetic off, hands shaking as he ran his hands through his own hair, keeping it from falling in his face.

_I need to do something else. Distract myself or something,_ He thought, his eye closing for a second, _but first, I need a shower._

**•————•**

Sal’s shower hadn’t been as refreshing as he had hoped it to be, but it did aid in making him less tired.

He now stood in his room, a baggy black hoodie shoved over some grey pants, his prosthetic back on and secure. It was now 3:04, and Sal decided it would be as a good of a time as ever to clean out the Hotel.

After getting the supplies he needed, trying desperately not to think of Lisa as he did so, Sal begun on the ground floor.

He spent most of his time disinfecting counters, mopping floors, and cleaning the windows. He also did a quick snoop in Amanda’s office when she wasn’t looking, though he found nothing interesting, only realising it was a lot more fun to sneak with friends. Afterwards Sal couldn’t help but feel guilty because he had no reason to be even remotely suspicious of Amanda, except for the feeling that she was apart of the cult.

Because why else would she be nice to him? No one apart from a handful ever were. Sal had tried to disregard the part of his brain that called him an idiot because of the fact _the cult didn’t even exist anymore_ , and _nice people still exist._

He was cleaning out the room across from his when his heart seemed to drop. It was an unaccommodated room, holding a shining silver number 30 on its door, and was a relatively nice room. No reason to make him feel safe, yet Sal stood still, eye planted on the ground as he froze.

Energy swam around him, thick and powerful and it felt as though, if he tried, he could reach out and grab it. It was a familiar feeling he usually felt around certain strong ghosts, such as Red-Eye or Mrs Rosenberg...or even Larry. Sal slowly turned his head, blinking when he saw nothing behind him.

_The Super Gear Boy,_ He thought, _I can use that to find them._

It was a terrible idea; but Sal didn’t mind. He was used to being reckless, especially when it came to ghosts.

The only thing he wished he could change was to not be alone. And that he didn’t have superpowers or whatever.

He finished cleaning quickly, and soon he found himself back in his room not only ignoring everything important successfully, but also assembling the gear boy. It was certainly easier watching Todd do it instead of Sal actually doing it himself, but he had to hold back a _whoop!_ when the SGB turned on, revealing the glitchy green screen he was used to.

Sal grinned under his prosthetic, and for a moment he forgot he was in Hawkins, Indiana, 1984. He was in Addison’s Apartment, turning to look at Todd, Larry and Ashley, his voice nearly breaking with excitement as he said, “ _I did it!_ ”

And then the vision was gone, and he was facing nobody but his empty room.

Sal’s grin immediately fell, and he stared at the wall, body cold as he did so. He physically ached at the thought of his friends; at the thought of anything that felt like home. But he shoved the feeling away, and instead turned around to focus on the SPG.

But when he turned around, he was standing on an oval, the sky above him blue and dark, a shadow of a beast nearly swallowing it whole.

The creature was huge in size and looked to be a thick cloud of smoke coming in all directions like tentacles. _The Endless One_. He ignored the thought, instead jolting as fear hit him. Pure burning fear, anxiety and _panic, panic, panic._

But it wasn’t his. Sal looked to his left, and there he was.

Will, staring at the monster with wide eyes about to pop out of his head, his arms shaking at his side. In the distance, Sal could see a sign that said in bold letters, ‘ **HAWKINS MIDDLE SCHOOL**.’

Sal went to step forward to help him, but then something happened, and he was back in his room, looking at his SGB, the feeling of fear evaporating. 

There wasn’t much of a decision for Sal to make. It was obvious where he had to go and what he had to do.

**•————•**

It didn’t take him long to get to the school, especially since he could easily walk there but chose to get a taxi. The driver dropped him off with a curious expression on her face but left happily when Sal gave her some money.

He spotted Will on what he assumed was a sports field, standing around halfway into it. Sal wondered what he was still doing at the school, but quickly decided he should ask those questions _after_ the crisis was adverted.

But then he froze, feeling himself go cold all over as though he was dipped into a bucket of ice, watching in horror as his world was flipped upside down, revealing the monster heading straight for Will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you all enjoyed! i'm having a lot of fun writing these and I really do want you guys like how they turn out as well. feel free to comment any ideas for interactions or etc below!  
> stay safe! <3  
> \----  
> ask me anything on tumblr! [@lacunia](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/lacuniaa)


	5. tales and drawings of obscurities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter took a while to write! it's the longest one yet, and i was proud of it until i realised how quick it took me to read it haha. i still enjoyed writing it though and i hope you enjoy reading it! it's finally getting good :)  
> (also, forgot to mention last chapter but I now know that Sal should actually be 23, but I'll continue to say he's 20. it's just easier for me and it doesn't really impact the story!)

**•——** **◤** **✧◥** **——•**

**⑉** **FIVE** **⑉**

**— (** tales and drawings of obscurities — **WILL THE WISE )**

 **— (** 08/05/2020 **)**

**•——** **◣** **✧◢** **——•**

Sal stared as the shadow creatures’ hand-leg-limb thing turned into a tornado of sorts, drifting over to Will. It sprayed up dirt and grass with its’ movements, the boy in front of it yelling something Sal couldn’t comprehend.

He forced himself to move, even if he wanted to plant his feet into the soil beneath him and never go near the giant monster. Fortunately, it didn’t seem to be looking at Sal, but he couldn’t really tell because he had to assume the tilted triangle was its head.

Sal started running down, past the schools’ sign, towards Will, who was still standing. The boy was yelling, but it didn’t seem to be doing much as the monsters’ darkness got closer and closer.

 _What happens when it reaches him?_ Sal thought, though the question was wiped from his mind as he almost tripped over an upright, jagged root. He went to continue his stumbling run when the root came to life, shooting up quickly and wrapping itself around his left ankle.

Sal grunted as he fell to the ground, almost hitting the oval with his prosthetic but luckily catching himself in time. He looked back at the plant, eye wide as the root seemed to move like a worm, quick in latching itself to him.

He reached down, tugging furiously at the plant, to which it just squeezed, and Sal couldn’t hold back a cry of pain. It felt like what he’d imagine a snakes hug to be like, his ankle aching from the pain.

 _Why the hell is this happening? Since when do solid, unmoving roots in the ground attack people?_ He couldn’t help his racing thoughts as Will’s screaming suddenly stopped, making something inside Sal snap.

And then the electricity started again, flying out and crackling intensely, forcing the root to snap in half.

Sal stared, paralysed for a moment, before realising he didn’t have time to be stunned. He stood up again, running awkwardly as his ankle ached. He didn’t want to think about what would have happened had he not been able to use the...powers.

 _I should carry a knife around more_ , He told himself, and blinked, which somehow made him switch back to the actual real world, and not the everything-is-dark-and-sucks-here-world.

Sal saw Will again, but this time the boy was just standing still, not screaming or moving. It made Sal feel weird, but he pushed forward, finally reaching the boy.

His eyes were moving under his lids, and Sal shook at his shoulders, not knowing what to do. He had never dealt with...whatever this was, only the occasional panic attack or bout of anxiety.

Sal winced as he was, once again, surrounded by the different parallel world. He stumbled away from Will, trying not to fall over. He was standing in a bough of shadows, darkness surrounding them both.

But then he was back to the real world before he wasn’t again. For a second, he continuously switched in and out of the two worlds. Quiet then loud. Light then dark. Screaming then no screaming.

“Will? _Will_!” a woman screamed, her voice cracked and demanding. Sal was thrusted back to normal and felt relief sprout through him when he didn’t immediately turn back to the dark place.

The woman, who he recognised from the small retail shop he had got the gear boy, barely spared Sal a glance as she grabbed Will’s shoulders. She shook at him, begging him to _wake up_ , and Sal held his breath.

He heard more running footsteps and saw the familiar group of kids coming towards them. As they came into view, Dustin made an apprehensive face at Sal, but quickly returned his eyes to his friend. Mike pushed past his friends to stand by Will, not saying anything as the woman called for him.

It felt like forever before Will finally gasped, eyes snapping open. He seemed to fall into the embrace the woman had waiting for him, eyes shutting tightly as he shook. She tightened her grip around him, and Sal watched as her gaze met his own.

He didn’t have enough time to read the expression in her oak eyes as she pulled away from Will, sharing a small, reassuring smile with him before turning around and walking towards the front of the school.

Mike quickly followed after them, Lucas and Max following as well, the girl holding a confused expression on her face. Dustin cleared his throat from where he stood next to Sal, arms crossed.

Sal glanced at him, and the teen boy asked, “How, actually _why_ , are you here?”

The 20-year-old shrugged, starting to walk again, trying to ignore the limp in his left leg as he walked.

“That doesn’t answer my question!” Dustin called, stepping forward and matching his pace. He glanced down at Sal’s foot, eyebrows strewn together as he squinted, “Why are you limping?

Sal paused, turning to look at Dustin, “Why do _you_ ask so many questions?”

The boy stared at him for a second, before Sal decided to start walking again. Dustin grumbled before stating, “I’m on a curious voyage, Sal. You can’t just take my oars!”

Sal felt himself frown behind his prosthetic, letting the silence drag a bit before questioning, “What the hell does that mean?”

Dustin looked a little bit shocked for a second, saying, “You never heard that before?” when Sal shook his head in response, the boy continued, “Well, I’m curious! So that means you gotta answer me.” He waved his hands for emphasis.

Sal sighed, and Dustin raised his eyebrows, awaiting his response.

“I saw it.” He admitted, tilting his head slightly. Dustin seemed to look extremely excited over this, eye going wide and a satisfied grin going over his face.

“So, it is true sight!” Dustin confirmed to himself, looking as though he was refraining from letting out a whoop.

Sal rolled his eye, replying with, “No, it’s not true sight. I...” He trailed off for a moment, and Dustin looked to him, inquiring, “It’s something.

“Yeah, true sight.” The teen boy answered, before running up to where his friends were before Sal could reply.

 _I don’t want true sight,_ He couldn’t help but think to himself, glancing down at his twitching hands, _I already have enough problems to deal with._

Sal stepped up near the others as they gathered around at the front entrance of the school.

“Okay, that totally freaked me out.” Max said, tilting her head to the car. Her skateboard was tucked safely under her forearm, and Sal glanced to her.

Lucas leaned against one of the skinny pillars, and Mike stood awkwardly, his hands hanging slightly. Dustin shuffled up near them, Sal hanging back on the grass terrain.

“Did that not freak you guys out?” Max added, glancing over to Lucas.

Sal glanced over at the brown-haired woman as she and her son walked over to their green car. He turned back as Lucas began to talk.

“Two episodes in two days,” The boy mumbled, glancing to the others before back to Will.

 _What happened to him?_ Sal asked himself, feeling curious as he looked over to Will again, _it must have been tough._

Mike continued on for Lucas, “It’s getting worse.”

Lucas then asked his friends, “You think it’s true sight?” Sal saw Dustin glance over to him quickly, making the blue-haired-boy shuffle his feet.

Max had her eyebrows furrowed together, peering at them as she questioned, “What’s true sight? Isn’t that what...” She looked over to Sal, who met her eyes.

“It’s...” Lucas went to tell her when Mike turned to look at him. He halted in his words as the car engine started, “It’s nothing.”

Sal watched as the car started to drive away, albeit wonky at first. His attention was turned back to Max as she huffed, walking down the steps and over to the road.

Lucas called out to her as she put her skateboard down, the girl starting to ride away as he tried to amend his dismissal, snatching his bike off the stand, and going after her. Mike grumbled something under his breath as he too walked off, also retrieving his bike.

Sal stood and watched as the three started to leave without even saying bye to each other, Dustin still standing near the entrance to the school.

“What’s up with this town?” Sal asked himself, gazing around at the school and road. He wondered if a dog from hell was going to attack him again.

Dustin walked up to him, turning to look over his shoulders. The boy then went and grabbed his bike, dragging it over the gravel path awkwardly.

“I can tell you,” He whispered even though no one was around, “if you can keep secrets.”

Sal started following him, eye narrowed as he mumbled, “Why would you tell me?”

“Because you seem cool,” was all Dustin replied with, the boy shrugging. They reached the road and took a left, walking at a nice pace as Dustin held his bike close to him. Sal felt as though there was more to it than that, but didn’t say anything.

Sal blinked at the reply, “Thanks?” he stated, glancing at his shoes as he walked.

“Okay, I’ll start from the start,” He said, almost sounding excited, and Sal prepared for a long overexaggerated story, “It started last year, when us four were playing a simple game of D&D in Mikes’ mums basement,”

“D&D?” Sal questioned, furrowing his brows together from beneath his prosthetic. Dustin gave him an absurd look as though he’d seen an alien.

“What? You don’t know what D&D is? Dungeons and Dragons? _Hellooo_? The best game ever?” When Sal shook his head, the boy huffed, “This is gonna take a long time.”

**•————•**

And it did.

It was around 4 when Sal returned to Hotel Hawkins, Amanda talking to someone in her office. He walked in, hands in his pockets as his thoughts ran wild.

 _Man-eating monsters, parallel worlds, lab experiments, mind control and superpowers,_ Sal thought as he entered the elevator, _where does it end?_

He hadn’t thought that Hawkins would end up to be as weird or crazy as Nockfell was, and he wondered if they too had a giant cult that wanted to end the world. The lab was similar, especially when it came to Eleven and her... _uniqueness_. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for her, and he now knew why Dustin had asked to see his wrist on Halloween, to check for a number.

Dustin had ended up being surprised when Sal didn’t bat an eye at the whole _oh-here’s-some-evil-creatures-we’ve-had-to-face-as-well_. Sal had waved off the questions that followed, and for some reason held himself back from telling Dustin about the animal that had attacked him, _especially_ now knowing it held resemblance to the Demogorgon from how Dustin had described it.

And then there was the Will disappearing information. Sal now knew why the kid was seemingly traumatised, because of what he’d seen from it, staying in the ‘Upside Down’ (as Dustin called it) wasn’t very fun for a second, let alone a week, particularly with a monster taller than the size of a man chasing you.

Sal walked into the hallway, heading towards his door. He tugged at his hair, trying to push the thoughts away before he gained a headache. He went to unlock his door when a feeling washed over him.

The _ghost-is-near-you_ feeling he got from Number 30.

Sal didn’t bother looking at the room behind him as he went into his own, leaving the door open. He could feel exhaustion still trying to drag him down, but he quickly grabbed his Super Gear Boy before he could convince himself to take a much-desired nap.

He closed the door on his way out, flicking through the keys he had gotten from Amanda. Sal found key 30 and unlocked it with a satisfying click. The door slowly dragged itself open, and he stepped in.

The room was pretty similar to his own, symmetrical, and predictable. The only thing that was slightly different was the painting on the wall. It was mildly big, sitting above the double bed with a plain art piece of a rose. He hadn’t taken much notice of the room the other day simply because he hadn’t thought to care.

Sal continued to stare at the painting for a second, half expecting an interdimensional portal to erupt out of it before he blinked the feeling away. He looked down to the SPG in his hands, closed the door behind him, and switched it on.

Its’ green glow illuminated the afternoon-lit room, and Sal’s eye widened as it started flashing almost immediately. He took another step forward just in case, before he pressed one of the buttons on the right, almost praying that it would succeed in sending out the electrical surge. 

And...it didn’t.

Sal cursed to himself, frowning as he sat the SPG down on the ground. He himself also sat down, crossing his legs as he thought to himself.

_Of course, it wouldn’t work, idiot. Why did you think you could do something Todd did? He’s too smart for you to replicate his work._

Sal felt a pang go through him at the thought of his friend. Friends. Oh god, he missed them. Why did every day end up like this? With him feeling the pain and misery of being alone and selfish and dumb. It was dumb. Stupid. Everything sucked.

Sal grabbed the SPG, needing something to hold as his emotions spat and stewed.

He felt another burst of grief, and he slid his mask so it sat on top of his head for a moment, the straps tight at the back of his skull. Sal sat, feeling numb.

Then his emotions flooded out, along with the electricity.

It travelled down his veins, throughout his hands, on the tip of his fingers and then straight into the Super Game Boy, causing its’ screen to go white, green, white, green, white, green.

Sal stared, eye wide as it suddenly stopped, its screen going back to its’ default black as a shape started to form in front of him. He quickly put his prosthetic back on properly.

It rose from the ground, body slightly mangled as it tried to put itself together, hands where the feet were supposed to be, toes where the teeth were supposed to develop. He watched as it faded to transparent, melted to normal body anatomy and hovered above the ground.

The ghost was a tall man with a brunette buzzcut, his beard looking as though it was recently shaved and growing back. He wore a white top with brown baggy pants, and a frown was quick to take his face.

“Why are you on the floor?” Was the first sentence out of him, and Sal blinked in surprise. Usually they started with a wail or a cry, or just didn’t talk at all and just stared.

“I...uh...” Sal stood up, and the ghost looked him over, eyes calculating and confused.

“What’s your name?” Sal asked, curiosity biting at him. The ghost man wrinkled his nose, observing the room with interest.

He didn’t answer, instead saying, “I’m in Amanda’s hotel, I assume? Who are you? Is that a prosthetic?” He sounded oddly like a politician or some sort of speech giver, his voice almost _posh_ , the American accent absent.

Sal couldn’t help but stare at the man, knowing full well he probably looked dumb. He couldn’t help it though; it was weird seeing such a ghost, as well as someone asking the infamous _why are you wearing...?_ using prosthetic instead of mask. Usually Sal was the one asking questions. His hands tingled by his side.

“Well? Spit it out,” The ghost stated, “and while you’re at it, please inform me why you’re in _my_ room.”

“Er... _Sir?_ You’re dead.” Sal didn’t know why saying ‘sir’ came harder to him than saying ‘you’re dead’, but it did. The ghost seemed taken aback, eyebrows raised as he leaned backwards slightly as though he’d met a crazy person.

“What?”

Sal faltered slightly, “You’re dead. So yeah...sorry...about that.”

The ghost continued to stare at him, bewildered, before they slowly looked down at their feet. Well, non-existent feet, really.

If ghosts could pale, this one did so dramatically. It looked at Sal again, left eye twitching slightly as it replied with an, “Oh.”

Sal nodded, looking down at the carpet as silence nearly consumed the two.

“How did you...” The ghost cleared their throat, “ _summon_ me, exactly?”

 _He got over his death quickly,_ Sal thought before saying, “By using this.” He lifted the SPG up slightly, the ghost observing it. He looked unbelieving, opening and closing his mouth.

The ghost gestured with his hands, moving them in an outwards motion, the action looking subconscious.

“A...a gear boy?” His voice seemed to stumble, as though he wasn’t really believing any of this.

“Yeah.”

Silence fell upon them again, and Sal fiddled with the SPG as the ghosts stared at his transparent hands, eyes wide. He shook his head as though he was talking to himself, though Sal couldn’t hear what he was saying.

After a while of nothing, Sal forced himself to repeat his question, “So, what’s your name?”

The ghost man looked over at him, his eyes glancing around the room as he answered, “Doctor Norman Blake.” Relief seemed to swamp over his features, as though he was happy he remembered his name.

“I’m Sal Fisher.” Sal introduced himself before asking, “Do y’know how you ended up here?”

Dr Blake shrugged, looking troubled for a moment. It took a second, but then he nodded, “Oh, yes, I remember. I work for the Hawkins Laboratory. You’ve heard of it, right? What year is it?”

Sal blinked for a moment. Hawkins Laboratory. The evil place that steals kids and mind control their parents. Could Dr Blake be trusted? Sal gazed at the ghost for a second before answering his question, “It’s 1984. You said you worked at Hawkins Lab?”

“Oh,” The man had no expression for a second, and Sal couldn’t help but emphasize with him, but he seemed to compose himself rather quickly, “My last memories were from 1983 I believe.”

Sal didn’t say anything, just returned his gaze back down to his SPG before looking up again.

Dr Blake let a sigh drift out, “And yes. But I’m not particularly _proud_ of working in that Lab. I worked for a bad man, but I believe he’s...also...dead. My family needed the money, but there was no point to any of it in the end, since I was divorced anyway and ended up being dead.”

Sal awkwardly nodded, rubbing the back of his head.

“I apologise. I overshared,” another sigh slipped the Doctor, and Sal wondered if the ghost-depression was getting to him quickly, “But there’s no point to being scared about oversharing anymore, is there? Not really much point to anything, it seems.”

Sal really had no idea what to say. Usually every ghost just cried for a bit then vanished, excluding Meghan, but she was like seven, so this was new territory.

And then an idea struck Sal.

“I...um,” Sal stammered, and Dr Blake met his eyes, “I mean, I could use your help.”

Dr Blake perked up slightly, though he seemed to hide the emotion as he asked, “Oh? What with? I guess I could spare some time, I suppose I have a lot now. What was it you needed help with?”

“You...in Hawkins Lab, did you...” Sal didn’t know how to form the sentence, and he let out a frustrated sigh before saying, “Did you work for the part of the lab that experimented on children with _abilities_?”

Dr Blake stared at him; eyes wide. The ghost didn’t move an inch, and Sal couldn’t help but feel as though he was about to dive into the floor and vanish.

“Wait,” Sal added, seeing how the ghosts shifted his eyes to the floor, “I’m not... _accusing_ you of anything. It’s just that I need help and I can’t think of anyone else who would be able to help me.” He could actually, but he didn’t know if he’d feel comfortable sharing his past with Dustin yet.

The ghost before him narrowed his eyes, mumbling out, “I didn’t want to take part of any of the experiments. But they said...they said they would take my daughter for the next one if I didn’t help. There was nothing I could do. Nothing.”

Sal paused for a moment, not knowing what to say. Dr Blake kept his eyes on the floor, his jaw seemingly clenched from what Sal could make of the transparent figure.

Dr Blake then looked up again, meeting eyes with Sal, “How did you know? About the experiments?”

“It’s not important.”

“I would say it is, Sal.”

Sal narrowed his eye, feeling the sudden urge to say _well, how about I just leave you here all alone forever, to rot? See how that works out,_ but felt sick at the thought of saying or even thinking something so vile.

Dr Blake met Sal’s eye, looking apprehensive. It was quiet for a moment, and Sal felt like the ghost heard what he had thought. He had a frown as he stated, “I’ll help you.”

“Just like that?” Sal asked, though he knew it was stupid to do so. He shouldn’t be questioning because Dr Blake might change his mind at any moment. He cringed under his prosthetic, awaiting his response.

“Just like that.”

**•————•**

Sal had decided to go to bed after the tense talk with the newfound ghost, falling asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

It was a nice sleep, which was a rare thing for him, and he woke up at a genuinely reasonable time. After having a shower, putting his prosthetic as well as some normal dark clothes on and tying his hair up in an attempt at a bun (which ended up just being a curly mess), he opened his door.

And then stared straight at Number 30, which he then proceeded to ignore and choose the elevator over.

 _I can deal with everything later_ , Sal thought, pressing for the ground floor, _I just want to take a breath for now._

The elevator dinged, and Sal stepped out, Amanda’s cheerful face turning to greet him.

“Hey, Sal! You’re up early, planning to go for another walk?” She folded her newspaper in half as her eyes crinkled slightly from her smile.

Sal nodded in greeting, saying, “I was going to go and get some food, actually. Want me to bring a sandwich or something back?”

Amanda shook her head, waving her hand slightly, “Oh, no. I had my own breakfast before. Oh, that reminds me! A friend of mine called at breakfast and told me about how her and her daughter saw a young girl yesterday, who ran off before she could even talk to her properly. You be careful out there, okay? She thought it could have possibly been a human trafficking technique.”

Sal raised his eyebrows, saying, “Don’t worry Amanda. I’m twenty, I know how to stay safe.” He didn’t mention the fact he has also killed a centuries old monster with an electric guitar before.

“ _You’re_ 20?” She seemed shocked, and Sal tried not to bristle as she glanced at him up and down.

Sal decided to just mumble out a quick reassurance before he headed out of the hotel, hearing the bell ring above him.

The day had mild, normal weather, the sun in a blue sky and thick clouds painted throughout it. Sal started making his way to a small café, which seemed to be busy as people went in and out with their takeaways.

Sal quickly bought a cheap sandwich and a coffee, ignoring the stink eye a man with a dirty blonde mullet gave him, and soon he was making his way out and back to the hotel.

The bell dinged as Sal entered, and after saying another hello to Amanda, who was rummaging around in her draws, he made his way to his floor again.

This time, however, when the elevator opened, he headed for Number 30. Sal entered the room without the SPG, knowing it probably wouldn’t work and not trusting himself to make it do so, and he sat on the ground once again with his food and drink.

He flipped his mask up slightly, making sure to only reveal his mouth even if it made the straps go tight around the back of his skull. Sal went to eat his breakfast, and it only took one sip of his coffee for Dr Blake to form.

“And so, it begins,” the ghost said, “Tell me again what I’m helping you with?” Sal didn’t miss the curious glance he retrieved for his prosthetic or scarred mouth.

“I think,” Sal went to state, interrupting himself with another drink of his coffee, “I have abilities.”

Dr Blake didn’t bat an eye, saying, “A plural? You think you have more than one?”

Sal explained himself, “One I think is called True Sight? I can see into that parallel world that Hawkins Lab made Eleven open,” He watched as Dr Blake narrowed his eyes again, suspicion running through them but soon returning to normal, “And I think the second one is...I don’t know how to...electricity? Whenever my emotions feel out of control or I’m getting attacked they seem to just shoot out of my hands?”

There was silence for a moment as Dr Blake thought, and Sal ate as he waited for a response.

“You said you can see into the Dark Place?”

“You mean the Upside Down?”

“Yes,” Dr Blake replied, and he chewed on his nail as he thought, “why do you think this is so? How did you come into contact with the Upside Down that you could retrieve such powers?”

Sal frowned under his prosthetic, saying, “I think it’s more so that I’m connected to someone that has _been_ to the Upside Down,”

Silence. Again. Calculating eyes. _Again_.

“There’s only a handful of people that have entered the Upside Down,” Dr Blake stated, “but I’m going to personally assume you’re talking of either Eleven or Will Byers.”

Sal just gave him a nod, not wanting to reveal quite _everything_ yet.

The ghost continued, “And these electricity abilities. Do you have any idea how you could have acquired them?”

Sal fell silent, glancing down at his feet. He raked his memory of ever being in contact with some form of ghost-cult-monster-thing that could possibly infect him with electricity powers, before shaking his head slowly. Nothing. He had no idea why or how.

“Uh, no. No idea where they came from. I’ve never had them before, but they showed up the other day.”

“How many times have they appeared?” Dr Blake crossed his arms, looking as though he was genuinely interested.

Sal thought over the recent days, saying, “I think three times? Twice when I was fighting something, once when I was just trying to power the gear boy yesterday.”

“What do you mean by ‘fighting something’?”

“I...there was a thing, the other day,” Sal said, Dr Blake furrowing his brows, “It was a creature I think was from the Upside Down, and it tried to kill me, but I managed to kill it first. That was the first time the powers showed up. And then there was yesterday when a root tried to break my ankle by wrapping itself around it, but then I shot it with electricity.”

Dr Blake seemed to think for a moment, and Sal started eating his sandwiches. The ghost then asked, “Roots? The roots moved?”

“Yeah. It tried to break my ankle, like I said.”

“Well, okay,” Dr Blake said, looking curious for a moment before continuing, “It seems to me that your electricity powers are somehow prompted by your emotions, so the easiest way to control them is to control your emotions. Find the one that triggers them and focus on that one when you want to use them. You seem to be in a similar situation as Eleven, so I’ll try and teach you similarly from what I’ve seen. Nicer methods, though.

However, I’m still not sure of the, as you said, True Sight. Do they just come when whoever your connected to experiences their own visions? And I’m still confused about how exactly you are connected to the person; it’s quite curious, actually.”

Sal chewed thoughtfully, fingers drumming along the ground.

**•————•**

“Hey, knock knock,” Joyce said, pushing the brown door open. Jim Hopper stood behind her; eyes quizzical as he took in Will Byer’s room. Drawings were pinned up on one side of the wall, as well as a single bed sitting in the middle of the room, an overpacked bedside table sitting to the left of it. A desk was placed under the window, white blinds flanking the glass.

Will sat on the right side the bed, staring at his window. He wasn’t moving, and Jim breathed hot air in his hands. How wasn’t the boy freezing?

Joyce stepped into the room, a thin piece of paper clamped in her left hand, eyes on her son, “We have a visitor.”

Will didn’t even turn to look at them, and soon Hopper was sitting next to the boy on the bed, holding the piece of paper Joyce had before.

It was a drawing of the Shadow Monster Will usually saw, the creature standing above a forest with powerlines in front of it and dark clouds above. There was a faint red sky surrounding it, and Hopper squinted at it, comparing it to the other picture Joyce had handed him.

“So, this thing, this shadow thing,” Hopper started, “You told your mum it likes it like this, it likes it cold?”

Will glanced to his ground before saying a whispered, “Yeah.” Joyce had a worried look on her face as she kneeled beside her son, looking between the two.

“How do you know that?”

“I just know.” Will shrugged slightly, eyes trained on the pictures again. Hopper frowned, looking back to the drawings as well.

The man fiddled with the pieces of paper for a moment before saying, “Does he talk to you?”

Will shook his head, looking down, “No. It’s like…I don’t have to think. I just know things now. Things I never did before.”

Joyce blinked as Hopper stood up, the man sitting down in the desk chair, facing Will.

“And uh…” He resumed the conversation, “What else do you know?”

Will’s eyes had gone watery, and he glanced away from Hoppers’ gaze, saying, “It’s hard to explain. It’s like old memories in the back of my head, only…they’re not _my_ memories.”

“Okay.” Hopper stated quietly as Joyce fiddled with her own hands.

Will continued, voice starting to waver, “I mean, I don’t think they’re old memories at all. They’re…they’re now memories happening all at once, now.”

Joyce mumbled out a soft reassurance, Jim questioning, “Can you describe these now memories?”

Will tried to think for a moment, but nothing came up. Why was this so hard? It was like everything he wanted to say was on the tip of his tongue, but nothing was coming out.

“I…I don’t think I can. I don’t know.” He looked confused, not knowing what to do or where to start, “It’s…it’s…” Will forced himself to stop talking, his words becoming slurred and faltering.

Joyce reached out to hug her son, eyes meeting Hopper as he rubbed his chin. Will breathed for a moment when a sudden idea came to his mind. He might not be able to explain it, but what if someone else could for him?

He pulled away from his mum, and she frowned at him, “I can’t explain it. But I think someone else could,”

Hopper glanced up, eyebrows furrowing, “Who?”

  * **————•**



Sal stared at the vending machine, tapping at the glass.

After Sal had described his powers to Dr Blake, the ghost had decided it would be best for Sal wait for a bit before using his powers, saying it was best not to overexert himself. He had agreed, reluctantly, and now he was trying to get a snack from the vending machine in the lobby that Amanda had set up.

“How’s it work?” said lady called from her office, peeking from her door.

Sal glanced at it. The machine had taken his whopping amount of two dollars, yet it refused to give him the option he had asked for.

“Better ask for your money back,” Sal replied, “it’s a bust. Lost a whole two dollars to it.”

Amanda clucked her tongue, “Darn. I shouldn’t trust those magazines anymore,” She headed back in, and Sal sighed, shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets as he read the instructions on the side of it again. He didn’t have anything else to do, so he may as well try and avenge his money.

He was there for about five minutes before Amanda poked her head out again, calling his name.

“Yeah?” Sal asked, getting up from his crouched position to face his employer.

“Chief Hopper called; he says he needs you to go to the Byers house? Didn’t say why,” Amanda looked curious, and she handed a piece of paper to Sal as he reached her, “That’s the address, right there. You be careful, alright? And don’t worry about the cleaning, I’ll manage.”

Sal blinked. Why was Hopper calling for him? And why did he need to go to the Byers house? He instead just nodded and thanked her, still feeling confused as he grabbed the piece of paper. He made sure he still had some money in his pocket before he left the hotel, bidding goodbye.

Sal waited for a taxi before he handed them the address, leaning back in his chair, eye fixated on the outside world, anticipation swirling in his stomach. The ride was a relatively long drive, and he assumed it was around the afternoon when he reached the house.

It was a small, comfortable little house with a warm, family vibe surrounding it. Sal couldn’t help but feel a sudden urge to be around his mother and father, but he shrugged it off. In front of the house was the green car he assumed was the Byers car, as well as Hoppers police car he had seen before he got attacked by the dog creature. He exited the taxi with a thanks and now empty pockets, eye set on the front door, which was oddly open.

 _Oh, god, it’s a trap,_ Sal thought, the words brisk and rushed, panicked and sudden, _It’s the cult. They’re going to ambush me and kill me. Finish what they started._

Panic was building up in his chest, and his mind was going gooey, but he made himself breathe. _It’s not the cult. They’re not even a thing anymore,_ Sal tried to tell himself, but another thought snapped back with, _but what if they are? What if all of this is just one big scheme, and you’re falling for it?_

He ignored his racing heart, and the 20-year-old shuffled his feet nervously as he stood on the porch, forcing himself to reach up and knock on the open door, glancing inside. It was hardly even five seconds before a man walked up the hallway, and Sal was met with Hopper.

“Sal Fisher,” The man greeted, and Sal realised just how short he himself was.

“Why am I here?” Sal questioned as Hopper stood aside, letting him step in and look around the house. It was even, as Ash would say, _softer_ in the inside, with its wood floor, worn-out couches, and patterned wallpaper. It had the possibility of being a nice house if it wasn’t freezingly cold, with all the open windows and door. Sal shivered, shrugging his shoulders up to his neck as he put his hands in his pockets.

“Will said you could help him,” Hopper stated, nodding up the hallway. Sal glanced at him before he started to walk, the man following behind him, “Didn’t say how, just that you could.”

 _What’s wrong with him?_ Sal wanted to ask, and would have, had they not stepped into what he assumed was Will’s room.

The room was nice, with its’ plastered drawings and books and musical cd’s. The window was open, causing the almost transparent blind in front of them to ruffle from the wind.

Will himself sat on his bed, leaning into his mother as she murmured something.

“Joyce?” Hopper said, catching her attention. She turned around, and Sal met her eyes. Joyce gently shook her sons’ shoulder, to which he turned and faced the blue-haired-boy.

Hopper nodded his head to the desk seat, and Sal sat down, feeling slightly awkward and misplaced as the chief sat down next to Will.

“What do you need help with?” Sal found himself asking, leaning down slightly. Will shifted, eyes looking slightly red as he blinked.

“I…” the boy started, “you can see it too, right? The…place?”

Sal couldn’t help the sudden flashbacks to the continuous times he had entered the realm, the Upside Down. He slowly nodded, and Hopper narrowed his eyes. He could tell the man had millions of questions.

“Yeah.” Sal replied, softly. Joyce clasped her hands together and sat her head on them.

Will continued on, “I need your help to see into it again, I mean, if you can.” He had a sad look on his face, and Sal frowned under his mask. The boy had been through a lot, and Sal felt himself wanting to help.

“I can try,” Sal said, “It’s just not something I can usually… _control_. It only ever really happens when It’s happening to you.” He couldn’t tell whether he was revealing too much information, and he didn’t miss the way Hopper and Joyce shared a look.

“Oh,” was all Will replied with, gazing down at his feet.

“I can still try,” Sal repeated himself, and Will nodded, “I’ll just need to do it manually, I guess.” The 20-year-old closed his eye and tried to focus. The room around him fell silent, and he tried to grasp onto it. Dr Blake had told him not to use his powers for a bit, so Sal would just have to tell a white lie.

_Control your emotions, and you control the powers._

Dr Blakes voice rung throughout his head, and he tried to make his anger more prominent. It seemed to be the one that triggered them, and he forced himself to bring them up. To bring up the painful memories. The cult, and all they did to him and his friends. Larry, killing himself. His mother protecting him. His father not believing him. Terrence leaving the knife. Not being able to help Travis. Todd, left behind. Ash leaving him. Being taken from them. Taken. _Taken._

Sal felt something inside him come to life, and he opened his eyes to find himself in an extremely dark place, his breath coming out in slow, hazy drifts. White flecks lazily glided around him, and a blue glow entered his vision. A low, rumbling growl drifted, and Sal felt himself go cold, as though he was about to literally freeze. He slowly looked behind him, craning his neck, and then everything flashed, and he was back in Will Byers room.

Will’s eyes were opening, and he met Sal’s, asking quickly, “What did you see?”

Sal furrowed his brows, not knowing what to say because he wasn’t really sure what he himself saw. He shook his head slightly, replying with, “I’m…not sure? It was weird. Really dark, and kind of blue, felt like I was in an…compacted or, or something space and it was really cold.”

Hopper sighed, rubbing his head with his hands. Joyce gripped Will’s hands, and he met Sal’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Sal said quietly, feeling bad. Why couldn’t he ever do anything right?

“Hey, no, it’s okay,” Joyce replied, her voice warm and soft, and Sal glanced to her. The room fell silent once again, and Sal tried to warm himself up by wrapping himself in his own arms, pulling his legs up so he was sitting cross-legged on the chair.

Will leaned into another hug presented by Joyce, and Sal watched as her eyes lit up with an idea, focused on the drawings planted on the wall.

“Hey, hey, sweetie,” Joyce started, and Hoper looker over to the two, “What if you don’t have to use words to explain it?”

Sal blinked, and Will turned to look at his mother, interested.

Soon Sal, Hopper and Joyce stood around Will as he sat on his desk, his crayons spread out around pieces of paper. Sal watched as he started scribbling, using the side of a blue crayon to draw. He seemed to be moving quickly, as though he was in a trance.

Hopper had a frown on his face, and Sal kept his hands in his own pockets as he waited, Joyce still clasping hers together. Sal thought he heard a phone ring but found himself too focused on the blue and black drawings to actually say something.

It wasn’t long before the huge amounts of drawings were on the ground, all nearly identical. Sal sat out in the loungeroom with Hopper as they tried to sort out the pictures.

They were very confusing, and Sal couldn’t help but feel hopeless. He had no reason to stick around, and even Hopper had sent him a few looks, but he still wanted to figure out whatever puzzle was going on.

Joyce entered the loungeroom again, another stack of paper in her hands. She sat on the couch, next to a bewildered Hopper, saying, “This is more of the same.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just scribbles.” The chief said, and Sal glanced up at the two from his place on the ground.

Hopper flicked through the pages, and Sal frowned from under his prosthetic, suggesting, “Maybe they all connect?”

 _I wish Todd was with us,_ Sal thought as Joyce looked at him, _He could figure it out. Actually no, scratch that, I wish I was with Todd. That would be better._

“Wait!” Joyce suddenly exclaimed, and Hopper looked to her.

“What?” The man said, repeating himself as Joyce said another _wait_.

Joyce ruffled through her pages, pulling out one from the middle, “Wait, maybe Sal’s right. These black lines, see?”

Hopper frowned, asking another, “What?” and Sal looked down at his own pile.

Joyce placed her own page on Hoppers, and Sal stood up to see what she was doing, “Look, they _do_ connect.” Hopper stared down at the pages, and Sal blinked as she repeated herself, “They connect.”

They all fell silent for a moment, letting the fact settle, before Sal looked down at all the other sheets of paper, “This is gonna take a hell of a lot of time.”

Hopper grunted, and Joyce suggested they push the coffee table in front of them to the wall, the policeman doing so. Sal started sorting through the piles, feeling weird. It was a nice weird though, because it felt like he was finally doing something since he got to Hawkins.

Joyce stood up and started placing her pages down, Hopper joining. Sal felt as though they were getting there as they continued to place the papers down for an unspecified amount of time, swapping and ordering them, the only sound the ruffling of the pages. Every once in a while, Joyce would come back with another stack of drawings, and they’d sort through those ones too. It reminded Sal of a much calmer process of the Bologna Incident, with all the clues and puzzles.

And then they were all standing, staring down at their work. The papers were connected to show trails of what Sal thought to be some form of tunnel, his eye looking down at the blue and black drawings.

Sal looked over to Joyce, who let out a puff and a sigh, seemingly wanting to say something but looking perplexed.

“Does this mean anything to you? Either of you?” Hopper asked, flexing his hand as he stared.

Sal shook his head as Joyce replied quickly, “No. I mean, is it some sort of maze or a road? I mean, it’s sort of forking, branching like….like lightning.”

“Electricity,” Sal mumbled to himself.

Hopper then questioned Joyce, “You think it’s that storm?”

“No, the storm he drew was completely different. He used red,” Joyce stated, glancing at her friend, pointing her finger upwards as a gesture, “And this is all blue and it has some weird _dirt_ colour.”

She waved her hands around, and Sal looked at Hopper, who seemed to be thinking.

“I mean, maybe it’s roots. Cause remember, he was saying it was spreading and—”

Hopper interrupted, “Killing. He said they were killing.”

Sal looked at them, feeling puzzled. He had no idea what was happening, and he wished he was on the same thought path as Hopper was.

“Vines.” Was all Hopper said before he started heading for the door, his face understanding and coming to a conclusion, “He’s drawing vines.” The man shoved his coat and hat on, and Sal leaped over the drawings, following him after a nod to a still confused Joyce.

Sal closed the door behind him, Hopper looking over his shoulder at him.

“What are you doing?” The man sighed, opening the door to his car.

“Coming with you.” Sal stated, walking over to the other side, about ton open the door.

Hopper rolled his eyes, looking exasperated, “No you’re not. You’re, like…how old are you? Seventeen?”

Sal stared at him, feeling slightly dumbstruck. First Amanda, and now him. “I’m twenty.” He said, and Hopper looked annoyed.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever. You’re not coming with me either way.”

Sal opened the door, already in the front. He didn’t care what Hopper said, he wanted to help, _needed_ to help after what Jim Johnson said. The policeman grumbled under his breath before also jumping in, switching the key.

“Fine, but only because I have a spare shovel, and some questions.”

Sal wondered what that meant.

**•————•**

“You said you were twenty? Where you from?” Hopper asked, glancing at the blue-haired-boy next to him.

“I’m from New Jersey, but I moved from there when I was little with my dad.” Sal replied, looking out the window. The sun was slowly going down, the white glow illuminating over the Hawkins fields.

“Why’d you move?”

Sal tilted his head, saying, “Why so many questions?” It was a dumb thing to do, definitely a mistake, and the fact he asked a cop made it worse.

“I’m the Chief of the police station. I’m allowed to ask questions, kid.”

Sal looked away again, and Hopper instead asked, “Fine, why do you only have one eye?”

“I had a glass one,” Sal explained, “But I lost it.”

Silence fell upon them once again, and Hopper seemed annoyed at how he was obviously avoiding the questions. Sal let himself enjoy the sun gliding through the windows, feeling as though he could fall asleep if he really wanted to.

Sal found himself waking up from a drifting nap by the sound of the car stopping, and he got out of the car, stretching. Hopper had drove them to a field with dead pumpkins, reminding him of the first one he had visited.

He watched as Hopper picked out two shovels from his trunk, handing one to Sal. He followed the man as they trekked down the field, and for once Sal was glad for prosthetic, protecting him from the pumpkins that looked to smell terrible from the maggots hovering above them.

Hopper halted, and then struck his shovel to the ground, and they started digging.

**•————•**

The sky was a mix of a pinkish orange and pale blue, and Sal sighed from under his mask. They’d been digging for a while now, though Sal himself hadn’t bothered to count the hours or somehow check the time.

Hopper grunted from next to Sal, throwing more dirt to their pile. The blue-haired-boy had glanced at him every once in a while, but all the times he seemed lost in thought.

Sal looked to the chief when he suddenly heard a squelching sound, and they shared a look. The man then shoved his shovel down again, and Sal watched as he struggled to lift it back up.

And then air seemed to whistle out or in something and a hole started to cave in. Sal felt a shiver pass through him, and Hopper panted, slightly taking more dirt out as the hole got wider.

And then they were jumping down into it. Sal knew it was dumb, stupid, and idiotic, but he could feel his curiosity burning inside him, so he hopped in after Hopper, eye wide as he landed on solid ground.

Hopper lit his torch and shone it around, and Sal lifted his hoodie up to cover the opening to his mouth in his prosthetic, just in case. It was the exact place from his short vision he had gotten before—freezing, blue, white flecks, dark, and now obviously _gross_.

“Oh, Jesus…” Hopper said, shining his torch as he breathed heavily.

“I don’t think he’s gonna be able to help us,” Sal mumbled back, and for a moment he thought his head was spinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!  
> feel free to comment your thoughts, ideas, etc! i love reading them, big or small, and they motivate me so much.  
> i'm super duper excited to write season three as well, i don't know why but i am. i think it's because by then i'm expecting Sal to be able to control his powers, so that'd be fun to write.  
> anyway, see you guys next chapter!  
> \----  
> ask me anything on tumblr! [@lacuniaa](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/lacuniaa)


	6. sound of fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new chapter! this one is shorter than the last one, so sorry about that! i still hope you all enjoy none the less!

**•——** **◤** **✧◥** **——•**

**⑉** **SIX** **⑉**

**— (** sound of fire — **DIG DUG )**

**— (** 10/05/2020 **)**

**•** **——** **◣** **✧◢** **——•**

The ground was like wet sand, soggy and squelching. The eerie blue glow and Hopper’s torch were their only light sources as they slowly made their way throughout the tunnel. The policeman walking in front of him was breathing heavily, and Sal could tell he was moments away from panicking.

Sal himself was counting in his head, keeping his arms wrapped around his body as he tried to stay calm. It was becoming frighteningly cold, as well as the stench around him seeming to grow more and more thick as the seconds passed.

Hopper halted for a moment, looking around, his hat tilting on his head. Sal paused from behind him, a shiver going up his spine, though he wondered if it was because of the low sludge sound coming from around him or just the temperature.

The 20-year-old turned to look at Hopper, alarmed, when a sudden alien-like cry came from above them. Hopper gasped, his hand shaking as he snatched his gun out, putting it in front of his torch. Sal stepped closer, looking over his shoulder at the same time, his breath coming out in quick puffs.

The feeling he was experiencing reminded him of the time Larry and he had to get Ashley out of the temple, but he tried to push the memories aside, knowing it wasn’t the most ideal situation to be remembering them in.

Hopper continued walking without saying anything, still holding his gun out. The silence around them came again, and Sal clasped his hands together to stop them from shaking. The man in front of him stopped walking suddenly again, and Sal almost ran into him.

He waved his torch around warily, and a screech rung throughout the air, sounding even closer. Sal held his breath. There was another low, humming hiss and his eye widened.

Hopper slowly lifted his light source up, and its’ glow revealed a... _thing_ in the top of the tunnel. It looked to have the same texture of the creature that had attacked Sal, slimy and sticky, looking as though gladwrap had been tightened around it. It’s mouth-thing opened, a similarity to the dog animal, and it was pushed back into its’ head.

Sal barely had time to even register what was happening when a huge amount of liquid and gas flew out of the things’ mouth, straight into Hoppers face.

Said man started coughing, falling backwards. Sal almost vomited then and there, but forced himself to rush next to Hopper, the man still experiencing a coughing fit. He leaned against the sides, and Sal was about to ask if he was okay when Hopper shown his light on the wall, revealing yet another spitting ulcer-looking thing, this time smaller.

It spat another bout of whatever it was into the mans face, and Sal grabbed the man’s shoulder as he flinched wildly.

As Hopper grunted and coughed, Sal helped him tumble out of that specific passageway, glancing over his shoulder.

“Hop, you o—” Sal turned back to look at Hopper when the man suddenly fell to the ground, causing Sal to fall along with him.

The 20-year-olds head hit the ground harshly, and everything around him seemed to ring, the buzzing in his ears loud and screaming. He tried to look at Hopper, but his mind seemed to melt as his eye went out of focus. In, out. In, out.

And then Sal went unconscious, the torch bright in the corner of his eye as everything went dark.

The vines began to wrap themselves together again, soggy and squelching. Like wet sand.

**•————•**

Will gasped awake, sitting upright in his bed. It felt as though his head was about to burst, and he tried to breathe as panic raced through him. A stream of sunlight was coming in through his window, and he stumbled over his own gasps as he tried to calm down.

“Will, what’s wrong?” Mike asked, having came over the day before to check on his friend and ending up staying the night.

Will looked down at him, before glancing at his door. He didn’t answer his friend, instead rushing to stand up, Mike jumping out of his sleeping bag already.

Will walked out into the loungeroom, blinking when he saw the hundreds of repeated pictures spread throughout the house. Joyce sat in the middle of the room in between the lines of the drawings, staring at the wall in front of her, her back to the boys.

The silence was pulsing around her as she thought, something telling her something wasn’t right. Her sons voice sounded slurred and distant as he asked, “Mum?”

She didn’t answer, continuing to stare at the wall. Will shared a look with Mike before sitting his hand on her shoulder, saying, “Mum?” again.

Joyce immediately turned around with a gasp, placing her hand on his, “Yeah”

“I saw them,” Will stated, and Mike shoved his hands into his pockets as he watched his friend.

“You saw who, baby?” She looked confused, and Will took his hand off her shoulder as she turned around fully.

The boy replied with, “Hopper. Sal. I think they’re in trouble,”

Joyce stared at her son, and his voice didn’t waver as he said, “I think they’re going to die.”

His mothers mouth gaped, and her eyes widened.

**•————•**

_You know, I may not say this enough, but I'm proud of you Sal._

Sal sat, the world around him spinning. Constantly spinning. Black. Darkness. Nothing. He was nothing.

_You've come a long way and I know it hasn't all been easy. I look at you now and I'm excited about the man you are becoming._

Voices. Who was that? It was his dad. Of course it was. Who else? Voices. Talking. What are they saying? Too quiet. Too loud.

Sal rolled over, feeling as though his head was about to explode. Too much pressure was building up inside him, and he tried to breathe.

_I think you've got a bright future ahead of you. I really do._

Sal had never heard these words before. When had his father said this? Why was it so distant? Where was he? It was too dark. Too quiet. Voices.

_I love you, buddy._

He felt like crying. He didn’t know why. Why? Who? How? Where was his father?

Sal reached out, fingers grasping nothing but air. Were his eyes even open? It was too dark to see. Where was his father?

_Time of death. 6:33. 6:33. 6:33_

Sal grabbed onto something. Who’s death? Who was speaking? So many questions. Too many. Ringing. Ringing in his ears. 6:33.

“Sal!” A hand shook his shoulder roughly, causing him to feel a quick electric shot. He gasped awake, sitting upright immediately. A coughing fit erupted from him, and he put his hands behind himself as he tried to control his coughs and breathing.

Sal turned, and met Hoppers eyes. The man had obviously seen better days, and his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head when he turned around, vomiting. Sal turned away from the sickly policemen, feeling dizzy.

Hopper grunted as he stood up, suddenly reaching out and grabbing his hat and torch, as well as his gun. The man started walking almost immediately, his footsteps quick and rushed, panicked.

Sal made himself stand up as well, trying to catch up to Hopper, who ran his hand across the roof as he speed-walked, only to suddenly halt when they came across a dead end.

Hopper turned around, and Sal squinted against the torch, the man in front of him cursing loudly, “Shit!” He panted, and Sal watched as he looked to his left arm.

The policeman cut through his fabric with a knife before he held the torch with his teeth and properly made a tear. Hopper put the fabric up to his mouth, nodding to Sal’s hoodie.

Sal quickly put his hoodie over his prosthetic, and then followed Hopper as he started walking again.

It wasn’t long before they stopped again, and Sal stared as he realised the tunnel split into two directions. Hopper seemed to think for a moment, and Sal watched as another thing in the wall tried to spit something at them, failing.

Hopper then pulled out a cigarette, dropping it down in front of the left tunnel before heading into it. Sal sighed, following the man.

**•————•**

“Are you positive this is the right place?” Jonathon Byers asked his companion, eyes trained on the small warehouse, looking sceptical. The grey car stopped in front of it, and Nancy Wheeler glanced down at a piece of card in her hand.

“ _3833_ ,” She quoted before glancing up at the building where the exact number was branded, “Yeah.”

“Alright,” Jonathon said, taking the key out of the car and getting out. Nancy got out from her side, closing the door. A train horn blared in the distance, and Jonathon walked with his hands shoved in his pockets.

They walked up to a rusted door, which had **Keep Door Closed** painted on in red spray paint.

Jonathon reached out and pressed the buzzer next to the door, to which it made the two flinch back from the glitched sound. It was barely a second later before a man spoke.

“Look at the camera.”

Jonathon shared a confused look with Nancy and leant forward, fiddling with the loudspeaker.

“The camera.” The bored voice repeated,

Jonathon mumbled to himself, “What camera?”

“Not the loudspeaker,” The man stated, “Above you, to the right,”

The teenagers both turned to look at the camera before spinning to look at the rusty door as it rattled.

Murray Bauman opened the door, wearing a white top and black pants, as well as a colourful dressing gown that hung of his shoulders, and he nodded to the both of them as he spoke, “Nancy Wheeler. Jonathon Byers. You two are a long way from home.”

He didn’t waste another second as he turned to his side, leaving a gap for them to walk through. He gestured with his hand twice, and the two walked in. After they did, the man stepped out slightly, looking around to see if anyone was watching before closing the door roughly.

Jonathon and Nancy waited in front of an orange metal-wired door, and Murray pushed past them to open it. He walked into his house, saying, “Well, I hope you didn’t come all this way to tell me about the bear in the Harrington kid’s backyard.”

Nancy and Jonathon entered the warehouse, looking around curiously. Murray walked a few more steps before turning to face them, “I’ve heard that one already.”

They didn’t say anything, and he then walked over to a wall, and the two teenagers watched as he slid it open, revealing another room. Inside the room was a massive pinboard with posters, papers, clues, evidence, and red yarn to connect things together. There were also some typewriters and a blueprint on the wall.

“Take a look,” Murray said, walking in behind them, “Go ahead, don’t be shy.”

Nancy walked closer to the pinboard as Murray continued talking, “I followed up on two hundred tips, most bogus, but that’s how these things always go, okay? I know every last step Barbara took that day, every last person she talked to. The answer to what happened to your friend, it’s up here somewhere, I assure you that. I just gotta connect the right dots.”

There was silence for a moment, and then Jonathon suddenly pointed to a picture on the board. It was a blurry photo, but showed a person with electric blue hair, and a white and pink mask on. One of their sculpted eyeholes was empty, instead showing a hollow eyehole.

“Who...” Jonathon asked, “Who’s that?”

Murray clucked his tongue, saying, “Somebody I’m trying to figure out. They showed up here, at Hawkins, around Halloween. I found the person by chance, per say. I had a motion sensor camera set up to see if I could catch pictures of said bear at Harrington’s, but instead I caught pictures of them,”

The man pointed to even more blurry pictures of the person, walking through a forest. There were only a few pictures.

“And I was testing the power poles with an electric meter, and may I say, I was extremely shocked by what the results showed. Because the electric meter showed 0.3 kilowatts, and I thought, _wow, isn’t that low for a power line_ ,” Murray stepped up beside Jonathon, “But no, it wasn’t the power line, it was our friend here.” He pointed to the picture.

“Is 0.3 kilowatts a lot?” The boy questioned, sounding curious.

Murray nodded, “Oh, yes, Jonathon. Quite. The average person produces 100 watts of electricity. That means he produces _300_. I would like to know why, but alas, I’ve became entangled with this,” he waved his hand over to the Barbara section.

Nancy blinked, looking up at a photo of her lost friend, “Timeline’s wrong.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Your timeline is wrong,” Nancy said, turning to face the man, “And the girl with the buzzed hair, she’s not Russian. She’s from Hawkins Lab. Her name was Eleven.”

Murray squinted, tilting his head at her slightly.

“You might wanna sit down for this.” Jonathon stated.

**•————•**

Hopper stomped on a small, undeveloped worm, the creature squealing. Radio static was coming from his walkie talkie, and Sal walked behind him, keeping his head down to avoid the things on the top.

“Does anybody copy?” Hopper called into his walkie talkie, his voice slightly slurred, “Look, if anybody copies, this is Jim Hopper, Hawkins’ Chief...”

Sal felt himself physically waver as Hopper stopped, his foot stepping on something and causing it to crunch and crack. He shown his torch around, and the 20-year-old now beside him cringed under his prosthetic.

Hopper slowly let his arm fall as they both observed the space they were in. It was an open area, bigger than any of the others they’d been in, and layered on the ground were bones of all kind.

Sal blinked as Hopper panted, and said, “It’s like an open graveyard in here.” Sal realised how thirsty he was after hearing the rasp and croak in his throat.

“Smells like it too.” Hopper remarked back before poking a moving thing with his foot, causing it to make a gurgled-like noise. The Chief stepped back, his back hitting the wall, and Sal looked away, his eye watering from the smell of the carcass.

“How you going, kid?” Hopper suddenly asked, and Sal looked to him, frowning.

He thought for a moment before replying with, “Could be better. I’m guessing it’s the same for you?”

Hopper didn’t answer, instead looking to his right. He shone the flashlight on the wall, and Sal went to stand beside him. The light revealed a circle of the worm creatures planted on the wall, and Sal could basically see the lightbulb moment in Hopper’s eyes.

The man lit his lighter, holding it up to the worms, causing them to screech and move away from it. Hopper looked back, meeting Sal’s eyes before beginning to craft something.

Sal watched as he grabbed a long bone and took his jumper off, wrapping it around the bone. He lit the make-shift fire torch with his lighter before he immediately shoved it against the worms gathered on the wall. Sal couldn’t tell if he imagined it or not, but he felt a small sting somewhere on him and blinked, wrapping his arms around himself.

When the wall was clear of the worms, Hopper stabbed the torch into the ground before digging into the wall, grunting. Sal felt himself cringing yet again as what seemed to be a layer of goo peeled off, and the man in front of him shared his disgust with a grunt.

It wasn’t really possible for both of them to dig, so Sal leant against the wall, an idea sparking in his mind.

“I can try and reach Will now, since there seems to be nothing overly dangerous now?” The blue-haired-boy suggested to the policemen.

Hopper snorted, “ _Seems_ to be. But yeah, knock yourself out kid.”

“Actually, I’ll try not to.” Sal answered, and the last thing he heard was Hoppers’ chuckle before he plunged into the darkness.

It felt like ice water had been tipped over him, and he clung to the anger inside. He focussed on Will, and tried to find the thin bond, pushing the rage forward to try and raise the power. Sal didn’t know how long he had been trying, when he abruptly didn’t feel cold and instead felt normal for the first time in hours.

He opened his eye, revealing a blurry, shaky image of a house. Sal winced as his vision shook, and he stumbled forward slightly, leaning against a mailbox.

“She knows I’m here.”

Sal glanced around. He could hear a girls’ voice, but he couldn’t see anyone, and he felt his legs tremble. It felt like he was looking through a fish lens, and his world was spinning. Sal shivered, wondering why he wasn’t connecting to Will. He should have listened to Dr Blake about overusing his powers, because he was now obviously struggling. He closed his eye, tightly, and everything went silent again.

“You okay?” Hopper’s voice questioned, and Sal turned to see the man looking at him, eyebrow perked, “You seemed to be struggling.”

Sal sighed, leaning his head back into the wall with a _thump_.

**•————•**

“She knows I’m here,” Eleven stated, looking at her mumbling mother. Her aunt stood behind her in the doorway, arms hanging by her side.

The TV channel started rapidly changing, flicking between random channels and her aunt jumped, eyes wide. Eleven turned to look at the technology, stepping up from her crouched position to walk forward, her mother still rocking in the chair behind her.

The channels continued to change, cutting off random ads and the like. Eleven blinked, which suddenly triggered something. For what felt like a millisecond, she stood in a dark cave, bones sitting around her, and she narrowed her eyes in confusion. White flecks were flying through the air, and a low rumble rang throughout the air, along with screeches and streams of wails. It reminded her of the upside down, and it felt like her heart dropped.

But then it flashed back, and she was staring at a static screen.

She didn’t like to do it, but Eleven ignored the sudden vision. She didn’t have time to investigate; she had to focus on her family. Her mother.

“She wants to talk.” Eleven stated, and her aunt turned to look at her sister, who didn’t do anything but say _Rainbow._

**•————•**

“It’s no use,” Sal mumbled from his spot on the floor.

Hopper was still trying to dig, his grunts muffled by the dirt. The man didn’t reply, only letting out an exhausted pant and sliding out of the hole. Sal watched as the man groaned and coughed, and he felt concern spark through him.

Hopper seemed to reach into his pockets and get what looked to be a cigarette pack, but before he could scowl Sal spotted a moving shape among the bones.

“Shit!” He swore, and Hopper stood up, dropping his cig.

“Son of a bitch!” The policeman cried as the worms slid up his leg, curling around it and squeezing.

Sal stood up quickly, going forwards to grab the torch, but stumbled as he did so. The 20-year-old tripped over a jagged root, landing to the ground with a thump. Another worm seemed to immediately target him, wrapping around his left arm. Sal cried out, trying to rip the worm off of him.

“Sal!” Hopper said, pulling his knife out and attempting to cut through the creatures before the worms knocked him over, unbalancing his legs, “Wait. Wait. No, no! No! No!”

Sal heard him struggling and tried to force the electricity out. He tried. He tried. He failed. And then a worm slipped around his neck, and he tried to fight it with his right hand, which was suddenly being held down by even more worms.

The tight grip around his neck became even stronger, and Sal choked, his breath coming out in frail actions, his vision wavering and shaking. He gave one last struggle, but eventually he had no strength left and he welcomed the familiar form of falling unconscious.

**•————•**

The sky around them was almost pitch black.

There were no stars to guide them, just a messy map that they could hardly see. Joyce drove quickly, her eyes searching for a clue for where Hopper and Sal could be. Bob sat next to her, looking at the map with a frown on his face.

“There’s nothing,” Mike said, his voice worried, “There’s nothing here.”

Joyce turned to look at Bob, “Are...are we close?”

“We’re in the vicinity,” Bob stated without looking at her, his answered calm to the rest, not knowing the actual stakes.

Will looked over at his mum as she questioned her boyfriend, “What’s that mean, the vicinity?” She sounded nervous, as though she was refraining from sobbing then and there.

Bob answered her with a rushed shrug of his shoulders, “It means we’re close. I don’t know. It’s not precise.”

“But we did all that work.” Joyce replied, and Bob frowned.

“I told you, the scale ratio is not exactly one-to-one. We needed to take—”

Will sounded fell forward slightly, eyes opening as he interrupted Bob, “Turn right.”

“What?” Joyce asked her son, looking at him quickly before facing the road again.

“I saw him.” Will explained.

“Where?”

“Not here. In my now-memories,” Will said further, his voice desperate.

“In your what?” Came Bob’s confused voice as he turned to face Will, who repeated himself.

“Turn _right_!”

And then the car swerved off to the right, Joyce spinning the wheel as the rest of the passengers gripped their seats. They all yelled as they drove through signs, shattering the thin wood. Joyce just managed to hit the brakes before their car rammed straight into Hopper’s police car.

“Are you okay?” Joyce asked the boys, her voice breathless.

The boys looked to each other, Mike saying, “Superspy.”

Bob took in Hopper’s car, asking, “What’s Jim doing here? Joyce?”

Joyce was already opening her door, saying, “Boys, I need you to _stay_ here.”

Will looked forward at the car, then back to his mum, shaking his head wildly, “No. Mum, mum, mum, it’s not safe.” He leaned forward, trying to meet his mothers’ eyes.

“That’s why I need you to stay here!” She said, pointing her finger, “Stay here!” her voice was firm, and left no room for arguing as Will leant back into his seat.

Bob and Joyce walked out to the dug-up hole, Joyce screaming, “Hopper!” She began to walk down the dip, panting slightly, anxious.

“Hey, be careful.” Bob said, watching her, before mumbling to himself, “Just going down the hole.”

Joyce reached the hole itself, and she stared down at the moving worm creatures, saying to herself, “Vines.” She turned, gesturing her hand to one of the shovels, “Give me that.”

Bob turned, looking to where she was pointing, “The shovel?”

“ _Yes_ , give me the shovel.”

Bob handed it to her, and she started hitting the worms with it, causing a thick liquid to spit back up at her and Bob. She gasped, but continued to ignore it as she hit them again and again, the worms screeching in protest.

After a space was opened up, she threw the shovel away and pointed down the hole, “I need you to help me get down there.”

“Joyce, what are you _talking_ about?” Bob lifted up both of his hands, eyes wide and confused.

“Bob! _Now_!”

And then she found herself being lowered in; her breaths heavy as she looked around. She didn’t waste any time with being fazed, instead yelling, “Hopper! Sal!”

Bob grunted and jumped into the hole, landing awkwardly but still getting up, eyes wide and words rushed as he asked, “Joyce, what is going on? Where are we? Who’s Sal?”

Joyce stammered, “Bob, are you okay?” her eyes were concerned, but Bob seemed to perplexed to notice.

“Tunnels.” Bob stated, looking around, “Is this Will’s map?”

Joyce grabbed a small torch from Bob’s front pocket, calling again, “Hopper!”

Bob continued his questions, gesturing around with his hands, “Are we in Will’s map?” However, Joyce ignored him, beginning to walk as she called Hoppers name again.

“We’re in Will’s map.” Bob said to himself, following Joyce, “We’re actually inside of Will’s map.”

Joyce yelled again as Bob sounded puzzled, “How did he know all this?”

They both fell silent as they were met with two different tunnels, one spreading right and the other left. Joyce stepped over to the left one, and shown her torch down on a cigarette.

“Bob! Over here!” She reached down and picked it up, Bob standing next to her, “It’s his. He’s gotta be this way.” Bob nodded, and Joyce continued to walk, saying, “Come on.”

She grunted as she walked, avoiding certain upright roots and Bob looked behind them before following suite, whispering, “Okay.” As Joyce screamed for Hopper again.

Soon they entered a wider room, and Joyce took in all the bones with a grunt, Bob looking around with horrified eyes.

She directed the flashlight over to a torch sticking up from the ground, as well as Hoppers hat, saying, “This is...” she trailed off, looking up and then gasping, “Oh! It’s his arm.”

The two rushed over to Hopper, and they crouched beside him. They saw the state he was in, with worms tightened around all his limbs all the way up to his neck. Joyce grunted, tugging at the worms. Bob looked at the worms around Hopper’s neck, saying, “It’s choking him.”

Sal’s eye opened, wide, when he suddenly heard voices. He tried to sit up, hearing a raspy “knife” close to him, and he wrestled with the worms.

_I need to..._ Sal’s thoughts tried to trail off, but he forced himself to continue going against the worms trying to kill him, _I need to summon the electricity. I have to. I have to. Focus. Focus. Help. Please._

Nothing happened. Of course, begging wouldn’t help him.

Sal then thought, _I’m not going to do this anymore. I shouldn’t have to summon these abilities. They should come to me. They are me. I already have them; I just need to_ trigger _them._

And so, Sal did.

He felt a burst of strength, and thought of his father. His mother. Everything. Hurting. He tried to shove it forward, all of it, and he gasped out a, “C’mon!”.

And then he felt it, dancing around his body, soft against him.

The electricity didn’t pour out of his hands this time, instead buzzing around him like a shield, protecting instead of harming. It wasn’t much, but the worms hissed and screeched and squealed from the even slight sense of heat, and Sal was released from their clutch.

Sal sat up, leaning on his elbows, and he turned his head to see Joyce and a man helping Hopper, who stood up with a groan.

“Oh my god. Hopper, are you okay?” Joyce asked, her voice watery as she grabbed the sides of his head. Sal stood up shakily, feeling absolutely exhausted.

“Joyce.” Hopper said, before glancing around and greeting the man next to him, “Hey, Bob.”

“Hey, Jim.”

Sal coughed from under his prosthetic, stepping forward. He felt like he was going to be sick, but kept it under control because he would have all the time in the world to do it later.

Hopper faced him, grabbing his shoulder, saying, “Sal. You’re okay,”

Sal didn’t have time to reply when Joyce suddenly exclaimed, “Oh, god!” as a bigger worm slid towards them, and Bob turned to lead them out before also yelling in fright.

A man in a white hazard suit stood, pointing behind him, “Go! Go! Go! Clear the area!” He held a huge flamethrower, and Sal felt his eye widen.

They didn’t need to be told twice, Sal snatching up Hopper’s hat and handing it to the man as they ran to get out of the room. He felt dull pain slice through him as he ran, stinging slightly, but he ignored it, continuing to run.

And all he could hear was the sound of flames and the screeches of the burnt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! hope it was okay.   
> you may have noticed this is kind of a filler chapter simply because i couldn't write from Sal's pov for pretty obvious reasons, and i know there isn't very much to be excited about, but fret not! exciting things are to come :)   
> also can i just say how much i love sal and hoppers forming bond? it makes me happy   
> \----  
> ask me anything on tumblr! [@lacuniaa](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/lacuniaa)


	7. hospitals, hallucinations, and horrors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new chapter! hope you enjoy <3

**•——** **◤** **✧◥** **——•**

**⑉** **SEVEN** **⑉**

**— (** hospitals, hallucinations and horrors— **THE SPY )**

 **— (** 11/05/2020 **)**

**•——** **◣** **✧◢** **——•**

Sal listened to Will’s pained screams as he and Hopper were dragged by the doctors and scientists.

“God! _Hold on,_ sweetie!” Joyce’s voice cried, Will’s sobs harsh and loud throughout the building.

Sal could hear the Byer woman and her son, as well as the rushing doctors, and he tried to wrestle out of the tight grip on him. He watched as Hopper was shoved through a door that seemed to open into a locker room, but Sal was forced by two men into the one next to it.

The room was square and bland, with light mint green tiles as walls and a white metallic floor. There were two stalls on the left wall, and sinks placed around the sides, as well as a single mirror. The 20-year-old was pushed towards one of the stalls, but he struggled against them as a hand reached for his prosthetic, causing him to snap.

“Stop it! I know how to fucking take a shower by myself!” He snarled, shoving against one of the men in a hazard suit, feeling a spark rush through him. The man grunted and stepped backwards, eyes narrowed under his cover, as though thinking.

The other removed his hands from Sal, and they said nothing as they walked out of the room, shoving the door closed with a _bang_.

Sal breathed heavily, eye closing as he leant against the wall, sliding down it softly. Everything _hurt._ Everywhere. A slight, tangy, and stinging feeling of being too hot, too warm, as though soft burns were dancing across his body. A pain throbbing on his left shoulder from where he had hit it when he was climbing out of the tunnel, only to be horrified when seeing a shaking and screeching Will on the dirt, spotlights surrounding them. A headache pulsing against his temple, trying to burst his brain open.

Sal heard Hoppers’ yell from the room next to him, and forced himself to stand up, feeling dizzy and spinning, as though he was about to fall right back down again.

Next thing he knew, he was getting into the shower, shaking as he faded in an out, in and out.

**•————•**

Sal stayed in the bathroom for a bit.

He could feel pain around his sides but ignored it as he stood in front of the mirror, staring down into the sink. He had received fresh, black clothes and tried to focus on their warmth, his blue hair sitting on his shoulders, a knotty mess.

Sal listened, hearing Joyce’s concerned voice through the walls, her tone loud and on the verge of yelling.

“Can anyone tell me what’s wrong with him?” She asked, and Sal closed his eye, leaning his head against the fogged over mirror in front of him, “Can a _single_ person in this room tell me what is wrong with my boy?”

Her query was met with buzzing silence from what Sal could tell, and he jolted as hands met a table, slamming as Joyce loudly exclaimed, “What is wrong with my boy!”

Sal jumped backwards, and felt his heart drop out of him as he stared at the mirror that was suddenly over casted with a dark shadow, red, scarlet eyes staring down at him. Red, scarlet eyes. Red, scarlet eyes. Red-Eyes. _The Void._

Sal couldn’t even scream in terror as the demon vanished, leaving the mirror with just his reflection. The 20-year-old dropped to the ground, dragging himself backwards and against the wall. He couldn’t breathe. Oh god, _he couldn’t breathe._

It felt as though his throat had tightened, leaving his tongue dry and eye wide, his fingernails scraping against the tiled ground. The world around him spun, and he tried to look in all directions so the damn demon couldn’t sneak up on him.

Sal counted in his head, repeating the numbers one-to-ten over and over for what felt like forever before he could finally breathe, his eye still on the mirror as he was paralysed to the cold floor.

“Just a hallucination,” He mumbled, and he let his head drop against the wall, body feeling weak and limp. He sat like that for a moment, trying to focus on anything but what had just happened, knowing it could be his mind playing tricks or…possibly not. Could Red-Eye follow him here? Surely…not. Surely not. No. Of course not.

Sal heard the door creak open, and he tilted his head tiredly to see Hopper walk in.

The man wore a hospital gown and looked uncharacteristically wobbly as he looked down to Sal, saying with a sickly voice, “Why are you on the floor?”

Sal stared up at him, mumbling, “Comfortable.”

Hopper closed the door, settling himself on the floor with a grunt, eyes trained on the wall in front of them. Sal turned his head away, gazing down at his hands as silence fell upon them.

“This ground,” Hopper started, “is not comfortable whatsoever.”

Sal was quiet for a moment, before he chuckled. And then he laughed, and he couldn’t stop. It felt like everything was pouring out of him, and Hoper joined in. He knew they probably looked like drug addicts, spread out against a bathroom wall as they uncontrollably laughed, but he couldn’t find it in himself to stop.

He turned, meeting eyes with Hopper, who snorted, and they both stopped their antics. Their laughter halted, and Sal gazed at the ground.

Hopper broke through the silence once again, “You okay, kid?”

“Yeah,” Sal said, tilting to look at him, “are you?”

The policemen nodded slowly, blinking, “How did you get through the worms by yourself?” he sounded questioning, his words seeming to overlay another doubt, and Sal frowned under his mask.

“There weren’t as many worms on me as there were on you.”

“I had Joyce and Bob helping me. Three of us struggled against them, but yet you didn’t.” Hopper stated, and Sal felt a weird feeling in his stomach, “How?”

Sal didn’t answer, glancing up at the mirror.

“Who are you, Sal?”

He turned to look at the man, replying, “It’s a long story. Longer than yours.”

“Mine?” Hopper asked, his eyebrows furrowed. A spark of realisation went through his eyes, and the man narrowed them saying, “Who told you?”

Sal cleared his throat, “Dustin. He told me about everything. How Will was taken to The Upside Down. The backstory of this Lab and Eleven. The Demogorgon.”

Hopper had an odd look pass over him as he heard the name Eleven, but Sal didn’t comment on it, instead letting Hopper pat him on the shoulder before standing up, “I’m glad you know, kid. I trust you.”

And with that, Hopper walked out, leaving Sal in the dull room with the mirror.

**•————•**

Sal settled into the free chair in the room.

After processing his conversation with Hopper, he had decided to go to Will’s room, asking for direction beforehand. Now he sat on the chair on the right side of Will, staring out the window, where the sky had gone dark and cloudy, a bad feeling in his stomach and head.

Joyce was talking with Bob, and Sal turned his head as Mike opened his mouth, his gaze removing from the sleeping form of Will.

“Why were you with Hopper, in the tunnel?” The black-haired-boy asked, leaning back in his chair.

Sal looked up and met his eyes, replying with, “Because I went with him.”

Mike rolled his eyes, snarking back, “Yes, but _why_? Were you at Will’s before or something?” Joyce glanced over at them, but seemed too distracted with her conversation to take real notice.

“Yeah,” Sal replied, “I was.” It was amusing to see the annoyance spring onto Mikes’ face, even if the kid was terrifyingly taller than him, though Sal chose to not think about that.

The boy fell quiet, and Sal leant his head backwards into his chair, resisting the urge to yawn as his eye felt heavy. He felt his own breaths slow, and the 20-year-old latched onto the drowsiness, grateful for the idea of sleep, even if his memory was full of blue, endless tunnels and moving shadows with a red blur.

**•————•**

He could hear voices, but they were muffled. Distant.

A memory was swirling in his mind, and Sal tried to ignore it as he slept, his lethargy powerful and making him weak against the attack. It started to replay in his mind, and he groaned, rolling slightly. A hand touched his shoulder, and he frowned in his sleep, disregarding it.

The dream flashed. He saw a picnic, spinning. He saw a silhouette among the trees, staring. His heat skipped a beat, but he kept running across the grass, the breeze flying past him. He could hear her, telling him to slow down. Her. His mother. Her, with the golden blonde hair and eyes alight with the sun. Blood. A shotgun. Her, jumping in front of him. The shot. The bullet.

Killing her, saving him.

“Sal!”

He jumped awake, his breath coming out in quick gasps as he tried to retrieve it. He saw Joyce looking down at him with a frown, her eyes pinched and worried.

“You okay?” She asked, glancing over to Bob, who stood over by the counters.

Sal grunted, sitting up properly and mumbling out “Yeah.” He looked up, meeting eyes with Mike, who seemed to also be waking up. The 20-year-old winced as his back ached, and wished he was back at the hotel.

 _I need to call Amanda,_ He realised, _she’s probably worried. Dr Blake too, though I’m pretty sure I can’t call him somehow._

Joyce went to say something, but was interrupted by Will groaning out, “Mum?”

She quickly turned to her son, eyes wide, and Bob rushed out of the room, yelling for a doctor.

“Hey,” Joyce said to her son, gasping slightly, “sweetie, how are you feeling? You okay?” Will looked up to her, and Bob entered the room again.

“Okay, they’re on their way.” He reassured Joyce, before looking to Will, “Hey.”

Sal blinked as Will fell silent, his gaze set on Bob with a frown before the boy asked, “Who is that?”

“What?” Joyce faltered, and Sal felt cold.

Bob chuckled, though Sal could tell it was ringed with anxiety. Mike looked confused as he glanced between Joyce and Will, eyebrows etched. “It’s me, big guy. It’s Bob.” The man reached out to touch Will’s hand, but the boy took it away, still staring.

“Are you a...” Will trailed off, looking Bob up and down, “doctor?”

Bob glanced at Joyce, who gazed at her son, “No. No, it’s just me. Just...just Bob.”

Sal watched as Will turned to look up at his mum, and the 20-year-old couldn’t help but feel that something was wrong. Something was extremely wrong.

The doctors took a while, but soon a few of them were in the room, as well as Hopper. The head doctor, Joyce referring to the man as Dr Owens, now sat on the right of Will, where Sal had been seated before.

The monitor beeped beside the doctor, and Sal shuffled his feet from where he stood next to one of the other doctors on the left of the room, watching as Dr Owens turned off the flashlight, pulling it away from Will’s right eye.

“Do you know your name?” The man asked, looking intently at the boy.

“Will.” The boy glanced down for a second before looking back up.

“Your full name?”

Will didn’t blink as he answered, “William Byers.”

Dr Owens tilted his head down slightly as he asked, “Do you know...do you know who I am?”

“A doctor,” Will said, closing his eyes for a second as though he was thinking and Sal frowned slightly. Some people around the room nodded slightly, Sal glancing around.

“Have we met before?” Dr Owens asked, his voice steady.

Joyce looked at her son attentively as he said, “I don’t remember.”

Dr Owens leaned back slightly in his chair, asking, “You don’t remember me? Okay,” He turned his head, pointing over to Mike, saying, “How about, uh...this guy over here?” He looked back to Will.

The boy slowly turned his head over to look at his friend, who waved his hand slightly. Sal looked between the two, eye narrowed slightly.

“Know who that is?” Dr Owens queried, and Will crinkled his eyes in focus.

Silence went on for a moment, and the doctor reassured the boy, “It’s alright. Take your time.” He slightly touched Will’s shoulder before removing his hand, and Will seemed to think.

Sal glanced over to Mike, whose face was starting to falter. He looked back over to Will as he said, “That’s my friend. Mike.”

Mike shared a smile at Joyce, who gave one back before returning her attention to Will. Hopper asked, a soft look on his face, “What about me, kid? You remember me?”

Sal watched as Will turned to look at the policeman, his face set emotionless as he shook his head without saying anything. Joyce’s eye twitched slightly, and she glanced up at Hopper with a puzzled look, Bob frowning at the ground beside her.

“They tell me you helped save me and Sal last night. You remember that?”

Sal frowned under his prosthetic as Will slowly rotated his head to look straight at him, the boys mouth pressed into a thin line. He felt the gaze of everyone else in the room and blinked.

“I do...remember something. He remembers.” Will stated, and Sal straightened up as the boy stared at him for a moment.

Sal glanced over at Hopper, who had no expression on his face.

Dr Owens captured Will’s attention again, “ _He_? Do you remember anything about last night? About what happened?”

“I remember they hurt me.”

Joyce put her hand on her forehead, rubbing it slightly as she seemed to flinch, and Sal heard Will’s screaming replay in his head.

“You mean the doctors?” Dr Owens asked, holding eye contact with Will.

“No.” He replied, and Sal shuffled his feet, “The soldiers.”

“The soldiers hurt you?” The doctor asked, leaning forward slightly, eyes intent.

“They shouldn’t have done that. It upset him.”

A heavy atmosphere set around the room, and Sal looked down at his shoes, heart thumping. _This is weird,_ he thought, glancing back up, _it’s...unnerving._

Dr Owens took a photo out of his blue folder, and Sal saw Joyce hold a scared look on her face, biting her fingernails as she watched her son. Mike keep shifting his weight to different legs, and Hopper stood silent as he watched, Bob staring, focussed.

Dr Owens held the picture in front of Will, and Sal wondered what it was of, “You say, _upset him_ , is that him?” Will took the picture, observing it before he looked back over to the man beside him and nodding.

Sal crossed his arms, Dr Owens looking back at Joyce, saying, “Okay. Okay, I wanna try something. It’s gonna seem a little odd at first, but I think it’s really gonna help us understand what’s going on.” He turned back to Will, “Is that okay?”

Sal didn’t know why, but he felt himself mistrusting Dr Owens as Will nodded, talking in a raspy voice, “Okay.”

It wasn’t a moment later before a doctor wheeled in a container on a stand, and Sal stared at what was in it. One of the worms from the tunnel, wiggling slightly. He turned back to Will and Dr Owens as the man talked.

“Now, Will, I want you to just let us know if you feel anything. Okay?”

And then the doctor lit up the blowtorch he was holding, and Sal held his breath. They were going to see if Will would get affected by burning the worm, and Sal felt like throwing up for a moment.

Sal watched as the doctor lowered the blowtorch slightly, the worm letting out a hiss and moving slightly. The heart monitor beeped regularly, and Dr Owens asked, “Do you feel anything?”

Will stammered slightly, “Little sting.”

 _That’s enough to know, right?_ Sal thought, but found himself corrected as the doctor continued holding the blowtorch.

“It stings? Where?”

The worm screeched in pain, and Will grunted, leaning forward, “My chest.”

“Okay, son,” Dr Owens stated, Joyce leaning forward to pat her child on the leg. Sal stared as Dr Owens nodded slightly, allowing the other doctor to put the blowtorch down lower, making Will groan and Joyce look between the two.

Sal crossed his arms tighter and saw how Hopper slightly moved off from his seat on one of the counters.

“How about now?” Dr Owens asked, Will holding his hand to his chest.

“It...it burns.” The worm screeched again, and Will gasped, sitting forward, “Ah!

Sal tried not to wince when a similar feeling of pain went up his side, causing him to awkwardly shift. He ignored it, saying, “Isn’t that enough?” The doctor ignored him though, looking at Will.

Joyce moved forward slightly as Will cried, “It burns!” again and Dr Owens replied with, “Where?”

Wills’ heartbeat started to go faster on the monitor as he groaned out, “Everywhere!”

The worm screeched again, and Joyce wave her hands, “That’s enough! That’s enough!” However, the doctor didn’t stop.

Will started screaming, leaning back in his bed in pain and Hopper sat up, rushing to Will, “Stop! You heard her! That’s enough! That’s it! We’re done!”

Dr Owens raised his hand, and the doctor retracted the blowtorch. Sal looked over, realising the worm had manged to crack the glass around it. He heard the heart monitor slowly go back to regular speed, and looked back over to see Hopper giving the other doctor a stink-eye. Joyce held her hands to her mouth subconsciously as she looked down at her son, who was breathing in and out.

“Sweetie...sweetie.” Joyce comforted Will, whispering, “It’s okay.”

Sal let out a sigh, letting his shoulders sag as Will calmed down.

**•————•**

“What the hell is taking so long?” Joyce murmured to Bob, who turned to face her.

Sal lent against one of the counters, staring at the ground. They were all anxiously waiting for the doctors’ report, but they were certainly taking their time. Hopper had left the room with an excuse that he had to call someone, leaving the other four to sit in silence until now.

Joyce rubbed her hands together with a sigh, and Bob frowned, reassuring her, “Hey...doctors take forever, always. Just try and relax. Just be patient.”

Sal glanced over as Joyce exhaled heavily, and he listened as the monitors beeped. He couldn’t help but be reminded of the hospital he had woken up that one morning, but shoved the thought away, trying not to remember the worst day of his life, ever.

Sal bobbed his leg up and down, and ran a hand down his hair. He looked up again, Joyce suddenly pushing the blanket off her shoulder and standing up, “You know, I just...” She then walked out of the room, leaving Bob to watch after her.

Sal shared a look with Mike as Bob left the room before they heard, “Let me through. Let me through!” Sal stood up straight and walked over to the door, glancing out before looking back to Mike and Will. Will stared pass Sal and to his mother arguing with the guards, Bob trying to refrain her.

“Will,” Mike said, trying to get the other boy’s attention. Sal watched as Mike repeated himself twice before Will snapped out of his trance, turning to his friend with a gasp.

Sal stepped over to the two, narrowing his eye slightly.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurting again?” Mike asked, and Will stammered with his words.

“I saw something.”

Mike leaned forward, “In your now-memories?”

Will nodded before he leaned forward, glancing to Sal then Mike, “The shadow monster,” he stated, “I think I know how to stop him.”

Soon Sal found himself walking into a room with the others, Dr Owens leading the way. The room opened up into a large office space, a long, dark oak table sitting before them. Photos were spread throughout the surface, and as Sal got a closer look he realised they were pictures of Will’s many tunnel drawings, all connected like the original.

Sal watched as Will immediately started looking around the photos, walking around and the 20-year-old couldn’t help but be curious about what the boy knew. He could see most of the doctors share odd looks with each other, some more impatient than others.

Dr Owens and Joyce followed Will around, Hopper leaning behind in the blinds, Sal standing next to him. Will stopped walking and took a seat at the table, Mike sitting in the one next to him as he watched his friend focus.

“Sam, this is ludicrous.” One of the doctors stated, looking at Dr Owens.

“Just give him a moment,” Dr Owens insisted, waving his arm at the doctor, “okay?”

“We don’t have time—”

Sal rolled his eye, looking over at an exasperated Hopper who said, “Hey, jackass, why don’t you do us all a favour and shut up, okay?”

The doctor fell quiet, and Sal watched as Will stood up stiffly, Dr Owens making the other men step back to let the boy pass. He walked past a few pictures before halting near the tables corner, pointing at one of the pictures.

Sal blinked, leaning forward from his position as Will said, “That’s it.”

“That’s what?” Dr Owens asked, and Sal walked around the table to observe before reaching Will, staring down at the picture, “What’s...what’s there, Will?” he continued.

The picture was one of the biggest spaces, multiple tunnels connecting to it. Sal frowned under his prosthetic, feeling weird as he turned to look at Will out of the corner of his eye. Something was off.

“I don’t know. I just know he doesn’t want me to see there. I think It’s important,” Will stated, slowly retracting his finger from the picture.

Sal glanced up, seeing Dr Owens and Hopper share a look.

It was a couple minutes later when Sal was standing next to Mike as they watched the soldiers walk through the hallway, heading towards the room Dr Owens and Hopper had went off to.

The soldiers were going down to the space Will had confirmed to be important, leaving Sal wanting to warn them but not really knowing how. They were on their best guard anyway, so there wouldn’t be much point.

“Does...” Sal started, coughing quietly as Mike looked at him, “does Will seem _odd_ to you?”

Mike stared at him for a moment, the boy saying, “Obviously, why wouldn’t he? He’s been through a lot.”

Sal already regretted starting the conversation, so he didn’t say anything, staying quiet.

“What would you know, anyway?” Mike continued, turning fully to face him, “You’ve been here for what, a week?”

Sal wanted to roll his eyes and tell the boy that he knew mostly everything about this godforsaken town, but just shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed in response, turning back to go into the room.

Joyce and Bob sat on the two seats on the left, so Sal chose to go to the counters again, sitting on the top of them. Will laid, awake, on the bed and Mike went to sit to the right of him, shoving his hood over his head.

It had been silent in the room for a few hours, the atmosphere tight and anxious, no one being able to say anything. Night had come, and Sal tried to disregard how hungry he actually was, and was going to get food when suddenly Will stammered out, “I’m sorry,” while he stared at the roof. Sal felt his heart sink.

Joyce leaned forward, eyes round as she asked, “What? What do you mean, sweetie?”

“He made me do it,” Will said, shuddering as he faced his mother.

Sal got off the counter, stepping forward and glancing at Mike, who looked down, his face forming a thinking face.

“Who? Who made you do what?” Joyce grabbed her son’s shoulders.

“I told you,” Will stated, his expression scared, “They upset him. They shouldn’t have done that; they shouldn’t have upset him.”

Sal’s eye turned to Mike as the boy mumbled out in realisation, “The spy,” He then glanced at Sal, repeating himself louder, “The spy!”

He watched as Mike ran out the door, Bob quick to rush after him. Mike was caught by the two guards as he tried to get through the door, “I need to get through! It’s a trap!”

Bob grabbed Mike, trying to get him off the guards as the boy struggled, “It’s a trap! I need to warn them. It’s a trap!”

Sal turned away from Will, and he let out a gasp of horror as he realised what had happened. Will had led the soldiers to their death. Will wasn’t Will.

And then his vision flashed, and he winced, falling back against the wall. Everything blurred, wobbled, and shook, reminding him of the tunnel experience. He grabbed the counter, leaning against it as Joyce continued to talk to her crying son, not noticing the distressed Sal behind her.

The 20-year-old could hear barking and screeching, growling and screams and worried voices over radios. He could see a smoky tunnel filled with white specks, people in hazard suits shining their lights through the haze. Bullets ringing through the air. Yelling. Desperate. Beeping.

Sal groaned, hearing Joyce talk to her son, “Will, sweet, talk to me. You got to help me understand.”

“It’s too late,” Will sobbed, and Sal clutched at the sides of his head, feeling as though everything in him was about to explode, still hearing the screaming and the _beeping_ and the _beeping_ and the _beeping._

And then silence.

The visions and flashing stopped, leaving Sal to let out a huff of relief, leaning against the counter, his headache pulsing and making him really wish for his migraine pills.

“You should go now,” Will stated, and Sal opened his eye to see Joyce standing her son, perplexed, “They’re almost here.” Joyce gasped softly.

Sal felt himself saying it before he could think it.

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you all enjoyed reading as much as i enjoyed writing!! i am so excited to write about sal's powers being revealed oh me godddd,,,  
> and if you missed out on reading authors note 4, i'd just like to say that i will be skipping out on writing the next chapter! the whole next episode 'the lost sister' is not actually from anyone's pov but elevens, so there's no way i can really include sal at all so there's no point in writing it y'know? but feel free to comment some ideas! i was going to make it a past memory but idk i just feel like that would be boring and would kind of bring down the suspension a lot if y'know what i mean?  
> anyway stay tuned! once again, hope you all enjoyed and thank you for the continuous support! also, if you want, feel free to comment how you would like sal's journey to continue in season three. want him to gang up with Hopper and Joyce? The Scoops Troop? or the Grisworld Family?  
> \----  
> ask me anything on tumblr! [@lacuniaa](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/lacuniaa)


	8. chapter skip.

**•——** **◤** **✧ ◥** **——•**

**⑉** **EIGHT** **⑉**

 **— (** chapter skip — **THE LOST SISTER )**

 **— (** 12/05/2020 **)**

**•——** **◣** **✧ ◢** **——•**

hi, it’s me, author person!

this chapter is going to be skipped because the episode ‘the lost sister’ in stranger things is just from elevens pov, so i can’t write about sal, so there’s no point to it. 

next chapter will be out soon, i’m just busy with school work at the moment as the teachers love to torment me :) 

also be ready for the next chapter, it’s pretty intense hehe

see you’s next chapter! stay safe & healthy!! 


	9. heart of electricity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new and longest chapter i have ever written! it's 10,000 words so I really hope y'all enjoy it. next chapter is the last one of this book <33

**•——** **◤** **✧ ◥** **——•**

**⑉ NINE** **⑉**

 **— (** heart of electricity— **THE MIND FLAYER )**

 **— (** 14/05/2020 **)**

**•——** **◣** **✧ ◢** **——•**

Sal stepped out into the hallway. 

Low howls rang throughout the air, distant but spine-chilling all the same. Sal breathed in, glancing to his left before back to his right. Bob had Mike restrained as the boy stopped struggling, his eyes wide, and Sal clenched his fist, worry coursing through him. 

Sal jumped as an alarm started blaring, loud and making him feel as though he was going to faint. He turned, looking down at Bob and Mike. 

“What the hell?” Bob asked, and Sal glanced back at Joyce and Will. 

“We’re too late,” Mike said, looking around in a panic as the two guards next to them glanced to each other. 

Bob looked confused as he relaxed his grip on the boy, and Sal watched as Mike yelled, “We’re too late!” 

Sal stepped out of the way as Mike ran back into Will’s room with Bob on his heels, the blue-haired-boy glancing back at the two guards as he too entered. 

“What’s going on?” Joyce asked, stepping up to Mike.

“We’re under attack,” Mike answered, and Sal looked over to Will, who gazed at them all with no emotion in his eyes. 

“What do we do about him?” Sal asked, his voice muffled slightly, and Will turned his eyes to look at him. Sal narrowed his own. 

Mike turned, grabbing a needle off the counter, determination in his eyes as he stated, “We need to make Will sleep.” 

“What?” Joyce questioned, looking at the boy. 

Sal glanced back to the black-haired-boy as he explained himself, “He’s a spy. If he knows where we are, so does the shadow monster.” 

Will suddenly lurched up from his bed, leaning forward with an angered look. Sal blinked in surprise as the boy snarled to his mother, “He’s lying!” 

“He killed those soldiers. He’ll kill us, too!” 

Bob rushed over to stop Will from tumbling off the bed as he repeatedly exclaimed, “He’s lying! He’s lying! He’s lying!” 

Sal turned around to face the door at the sudden sounds of gunshots, Bob saying, “Those are gunshots!” as Will continued to yell. Sal glanced to the door and back to the others, wishing they would hurry and make a choice. The 20-year-old quickly walked over, closing the door as the alarm continued to blare. 

“Okay, Will, Will,” Joyce interrupted her struggling son, eyes wide and Sal frowned, “Listen, listen. Do you know who I am?” 

Sal let out a sigh as the room fell silent, Will’s face focussing and intent for a moment. 

“Do you know who I am?” The brown-haired woman repeated, shaking her son’s shoulders, who breathed heavily in response. 

“You’re...” Will stammered, and Sal felt his heart drop, “You’re...you’re Mum.” 

Joyce’s face seemed to search his, and she leaned backwards with a frown. Sal watched as she looked to Bob before saying, “Hold him down.” 

Will automatically started freaking out again, and Sal looked to Mike, who had his hands over his ears as his friend screamed, “No! No! Let go! No! No! Let me go! Let me go!” 

Joyce replied with repeated, “I’m sorry!” before pushing the needle into her sons’ arm, and Sal looked away. He could hear Will’s words fall quiet, and he glanced over to see him go limp against the arms holding him. 

Almost as soon as the boy fell unconscious, the door barged open and Sal stood in front of the others, preparing to see whatever creature was responsible for the howls and sounds, as well as the continuous alarm. 

But it was just Dr Owens and Hopper, the latter looking to Joyce and Will, his breath panting. Sal looked out the door as animalistic growls sounded, and watched as hands clawed at the wood door. The sound reminded him of the dog creature that had attacked him that one day, but he forced himself to remain in the present. 

“We gotta go. We gotta go.” Hopper stated, rushing to pick Will up from the bed. Sal walked after the chief as he left the room without another word, the others swiftly following. 

As they ran through the hallway, Sal tried to ignore the screams of the other residents and felt himself halting quickly with the others as a body slid out in front of them, one of the dog monsters on top of the person. 

_Knew it,_ Sal thought grimly as he stared at the creature, frozen. 

Gunfire behind them made Sal jolt softly, and Hopper took a right and took them into a room with a gruff, “Come on!” 

Dr Owens closed the door once they all entered and Sal watched as Hopper set Will down on a counter. The blue-haired-boy glanced around, quickly taking in what seemed to be a control room with shelves of files to his left and live camera footage to his right. 

Sal barely had time to think before Bob whispered, “Oh my god,” 

Sal turned to see what the man was gaping at and felt his eye widen as he watched the black and white footage. The creatures had infested the hallways and corridors, walking over dead bodies, and howling and growling to one another.

Sal took in a wavering breath and looked up quickly as the lights in the room started flickering, reminding him of all the ghost hunting adventures with his friends. He shared a look with Hopper, and then the lights went out fully, the machines in front of them turning static before leaving the entirety of the room in darkness.

“Shit,” Sal whispered under his breath, Joyce mumbling out an ‘ _oh, my God_ ,’ in horror. Sal leaned against the wall as the monsters in the building with them continued their screeching, and he felt as though his heart was about to jump out of his chest.

Dr Owens walked over to one of the shelves, and Sal watched as he grabbed a blueprint from one of the draws. The doctor placed it down on one of the counters, and Sal stood to his right, the others too gathering around.

Dr Owens grabbed a torch from his front pocket and handed it to Hopper, who lit it over the blueprint, and Sal watched as the doctor gestured with a pen, saying, “Look, this is us, and this is the nearest exit,” he circled with his pen, “But even if we somehow make it there, there’s no way out.”

“What do you mean?” Hopper asked, and Sal wrapped his arms around himself.

“The locks are fail-secure,” Dr Owens explained.

Joyce questioned from behind Sal, “Fail secure?”

Dr Owens glanced around at them, Sal tilting his head slightly, “If there’s a power outage, the building goes on full lockdown.” He gestured with his hands, and Sal frowned from his mask.

 _What kind of murder-architect made a lab designed for The Upside Down go on lockdown?_ Sal wondered to himself, shifting his balance from leg to leg, almost wincing when he rotated his healing ankle awkwardly.

“Can it be unlocked remotely?” Bob asked, and Dr Owens looked to him.

“With a computer, sure,” He replied, “but somebody’s gotta reset the breakers.”

Sal looked at Hopper, who said, “Where are the breakers?”

“Breakers are down in the basement, three floors down,” Dr Owens stated, looking to the blueprint for confirmation. Sal sighed lowly.

Hopper suddenly reached out and picked up the blueprint, stepping near the door. Sal raised his eyebrows, and Bob rushed forward.

“Hey, where are you going?” the man asked, voice perplexed.

Hopper looked back at him as though the answer was obvious, “To reset the breakers.” Sal glanced at him, easily knowing it wasn’t as easy as it sounded.

“Okay, then what?” Bob questioned, and Sal felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Then we get the hell out of here.”

“No, then the _power_ comes back on.” Bob replied, “if you wanna unlock the doors, you have to completely reboot the computer system, and then override the security codes with manual input.”

“Fine, how do I do that?” Hopper enquired, and Sal stared at him. He couldn’t help but wish Todd was here. He’d know what to do.

“You _can’t_. Not unless you know BASIC.” The other man stated, and Hopper looked puzzled.

The policeman said, “I don’t know what that means.”

“It’s a computer programming language.” Mike inputted from next to Joyce, and Sal glanced back to Hopper, who took his hand off the doorknob.

“Alright, teach it to me.” He insisted.

Bob scoffed, and Sal watched as he replied with, “Shall I teach you French while I’m at it, Jim? How about a little German?” Hopper didn’t reply, and Bob turned around to glance at Dr Owens, “How about you, Doc? You speak BASIC?”

Dr Owens stammered for a moment in thought before sighing and saying, “No.”

Sal blinked, and Bob turned back to Hopper, “Okay. I got this. I got this.”

Joyce stepped forward, reaching out, “No. Bob.”

“It’s okay.” He whispered back, and Sal ran a hand down his hair, feeling stressed. Hopper glanced over at him before looking back at Bob and Joyce, who hugged. As they pulled back, Bob reassured his girlfriend.

“It’s gonna be okay. Remember, Bob Newby, superhero.” Joyce chuckled lightly at that, though Sal could tell it was hiding how upset she truly was.

Sal watched as Hopper and Bob left the room to go grab a guard’s body to get the equipment they required. He held his breath in anticipation, though he heard no growls or screeches of alarm.

The whole room was silent as they awaited Hopper’s return, and Sal watched as Joyce seemed to subconsciously draw circles on her unconscious son’s arm. Sal looked down to the floor.

The door suddenly opened and Sal turned to see Hopper walk in silently, sharing a nod with Dr Owens. The man settled down in the chair next to Sal after he closed the door, and the blue-haired-boy continued to glance down at his feet.

He felt a shiver crawl up his spine and breathed hot air into his hands through his prosthetics’ mouth opening. It was barely a minute later before the lights flickered and came to life, as well as the computers in the room flashing before turning back on.

Sal stood up straight and stepped forward with the others, focusing on one of the cameras. It showed Bob by what Sal guessed were the breakers, crouching down and looking around.

“He made it,” Mike said, sounding relieved. Sal let out a sigh of relief.

Dr Owens sat down in one of the chairs, pressing a button on the speaker, “Okay, Bob, can you hear us?” His eyes were focused on the computers, and Sal shuffled his feet.

 _“Loud and clear, Doc. Can you hear me back?”_ Bob’s voice flowed back, and Sal glanced at Joyce, who had a nervous yet reassuring look on her face.

Dr Owens nodded, and Sal fiddled with his hands, staring at the camera that showed Bob. Dr Owens said, “Yeah, we hear you alright.”

_“All right, give me a minute.”_

The room once again fell silent as they waited, watching the screens.

 _No creatures are coming for him,_ Sal thought, eye twitching slightly, _I feel like I should add ‘yet’ to that thought, though._ He shook his head, and Hopper glanced at him but didn’t say anything.

Bob’s voice suddenly cut in again as he established, _“Open sesame.”_

Buzzing ran throughout the building, and Sal let out a happy sigh, the others in the room seeming to let go of some tension as well.

“It’s open.” Dr Owens stated, relief planted on his face.

“Son of a bitch did it,” Hopper said, a fond look on his face. The man turned and stepped over to Will.

 _“Right, I’ll meet you outside,”_ Bob’s voice confirmed, and Dr Owens replied with, “Nice job.”

Sal glanced away, but froze when Dr Owen’s gestured to another screen, “Hold on a second, Chief.”

“What’s wrong?” Hopper asked, immediately turning back to face the computers. Sal squinted at it, seeing another animal walking down a set of stairs, seemingly in a stalking position.

“West stairwells not clear anymore.” Dr Owens said, and Sal saw Joyce take a deep inhale of breath.

_“What’s going on?”_

Dr Owens ran a hand over his face, “We’ve got some company.”

_“Where?”_

“The west stairwell.”

Sal crossed his arms tightly, sitting down in the chair next to Dr Owens, eye fixated on the other screens in case. Bob reported back quickly, _“I got an idea.”_

They all watched as he went back to the computer and started typing again, Dr Owens asking aloud, “What the hell’s he doing?”

Sal glanced up at another screen as a water sprinkler in the ceiling turned on, causing the monster on the stairwell to let out a chitter and rush back up the stairs, away from Bob.

Dr Owens glanced back at the others before saying, “Okay. Okay, that worked. Now, get _out_ of there. Go! Go!”

Sal slid out of the chair, Hopper already turning and grabbing Will with a grunt. He started to walk towards the door before Dr Owens stopped them, saying, “Wait a second, Chief?”

“What?”

“Take this.” Dr Owens said, handing Hopper a walkie talkie. Sal blinked, glancing at him.

“You’re not coming?” The 20-year-old questioned, and Dr Owens shook his head.

“Any more surprises, I’ll let you know,” After seeing the look on Hopper’s face, the doctor gestured forward with his head, “Go. Go!”

And then Sal and the other three, plus an unconscious Will, stepped out into the hallway. Hopper went first, his gun pointed and ready for any surprises. Mike went second, and Joyce followed after him, looking around. Sal nodded to Dr Owens before closing the door and taking the rear, observing the hallway. The alarm had stopped a while ago, but Sal glanced up and saw the yellow light still fading in and out, as well as the blue glow seeming to dither slightly.

They were walking for a moment, and Sal halted for a second, glancing into an empty room to his left. He squinted into the darkness, wrinkling his nose when he spotted a mangled body of a guard, blood spread out and slowly leaking out in front of Sal. He looked back to the others, who too had stopped, glancing back at him. They stood, waiting for him, a few steps ahead, however, a crossway now stood between them.

Anything could be to the left or right, and Sal stared at them, feeling absolutely dumb and stupid.

Joyce gestured for him to start walking with her hand, and he stepped forward, eye wide when suddenly he heard a curious, low growl to his right.

A creature was to his right. Meaning something had most likely come into the crossway corridor. Meaning he was an idiot, and he should definitely pay more attention in life or death situations.

The 20-year-old froze, as did the others, before he nodded for them to go, tilting backwards with his head. He hoped he knew what they meant, and Hopper nodded, but Sal saw the man send him a worried glance.

He watched as disappeared around another corner, and then slowly stepped backwards, hoping with all his might his shoes wouldn’t choose to squeak at this very moment.

 _Please let me have good luck for one moment,_ He thought, _I don’t know if my electricity will help me this time._

His shoe squeaked, sluggishly, yet loudly, dragging over the fresh blood of the guard.

“Why do you hate me?” Sal whispered to no one, and then a dog creature tore around the corner, mouth already open as it screeched at Sal.

The 20-year-old grunted as it jumped towards him, and he dodged, slipping, and sliding clumsily into the room next to him. It smelt absolutely horrendous in the room, the dead body next to him literally _open,_ but he disregarded it.

The monster pounced at Sal again, causing him to fall, straight next to the body. A memory of the first dog animal attack flashed through his mind, but this time the dog animal was stronger, pushing against Sal as it roared.

It tried to reach out and slash at him, but he awkwardly held its’ leg, the creature’s saliva dripping down onto Sal. The boy glanced to his left, a glint catching his eye, and with a second look, he noticed it was a knife. A knife, in the _dead bodies hand_ , but a knife!

Sal gave another shove to the monster and reached out, snatching the knife in his hand with a small struggle. He turned back to face the creature and it screeched again, it’s roar loud and vicious, chanting and demonic.

Sal screamed back at it, before shoving the knife straight into its’ mouth. And then again. And again. And again.

Thick blood squirted back at him, and he squinted behind his prosthetic in disgust as the monster stilled. He coughed heavily, sitting up almost immediately and pushing the creature off of him. Sal glanced down at his top, feeling sick as he noticed the layer of red liquid on him, as well as the monster saliva. He didn’t want to imagine what his mask looked like.

 _I probably look like the aftermath would have been if I had ended up killing everyone and doing what Terrence said,_ Sal mused before snorting to himself, wondering where _that_ thought had come from.

He forced himself to stand up, letting out a groan and hoped the creature’s calls hadn’t been a cry or summon for more.

Sal stepped out, clutching the knife in his hand.

He started walking to where the others had headed before, looking around, now knowing he was more alert. Sal held his breath as he heard a scream and the sound of bullets in front of him, and started running towards the sound, heart beating, nearly as loud as thunder against his ears.

Sal could hear a woman screaming, as well as a screeching monster, and the world spun around him. He skidded to a halt as he turned a left, eye wide.

In front of him was a broken-down wooden door, and a man laid on the floor, three creatures on top of him and gnawing, the sound of teeth against skin meeting Sal’s ears and making him feel vomit come up his throat.

He pushed the urge to gag back down, and stepped forward slowly, hearing another cry of a woman, and he glanced and saw Joyce getting pulled by Hopper, the mother sobbing and screaming, “Bob!”

Sal felt weightless as he looked back to the body, realising who it was. Bob.

 _He didn’t make it,_ Sal thought mournfully, and then thinking, _and neither am I._

“Sal?” Hopper yelled, and the 20-year-old looked up to meet the man’s eyes. He looked exhausted, holding a struggling Joyce, and Sal let out a low sigh, feeling gruesome as he gestured for the policeman to go.

A troubled look fell over Hopper’s face, but he stepped away from the glass doors, which had around five more of the dog creatures slammed up against it. Sal wasn’t going to make it out alive, and soon he would be lying dead with Bob. Dead, like he was always supposed to be since that day on August 12th. 

_No,_ He thought, pushing the dark ideas away, _I’m not going to give up that easily. Larry and my mum would hate me in the afterlife forever._

He glanced over at another set of windows and knew it was time to rush towards them when one of the dog creatures turned around, letting out a screech as it spotted him.

Sal gripped the knife tighter and sprinted forward, halting in front of the slightly smashed window. He turned around just in time to see one of the monsters jump, it’s mouth wide open and teeth displayed.

Sal sidestepped, and the animal shattered the window, flying out with a whimper. The other Upside-Down animals chittered, and he took it as an alert to go, jumping out the window.

He took a glance and saw Hopper and the others getting in a car not too far away from him. The creature that had jumped through the window laid on the grass, seeming to have knocked itself unconscious by smashing the window by itself.

“Sal! Behind you!” Mike screamed from the car, and Sal quickly turned, knife raised.

It was a big one, the colour of midnight and had claws painted with scarlet blood. Sal was knocked over again and he winced, yelling under his prosthetic as he struggled against it. The creature managed to knock the knife out from his grasp.

He heard yells coming from the car, and for a moment, time slowed. Sal could hear the other animals coming for him, the sound of their footsteps thumping and thumping. Thumping. His heart, thumping. The world spinning around him. The monster’s face leaning down to his neck. His mother, pushing him forward.

Electricity.

It burst out of him, spinning and chaotic as it lashed out like a whip. Out of his hands, straight into the one on top of him. Tearing through the texture of the monster, ripping open the skin and travelling through its’ body, cutting through it like a sword. And then to the others jumping out of the window, like a forcefield around Sal.

The blue electricity hissed and flowed through the air until there were no more of the creatures, all of them dead around Sal.

His ears rang, as though an explosion had gone off right next to him. He could hear muffled voices talking over one another and he grimaced, covering his ears as they pulsed painfully, trying to pop.

He felt light-headed as he let his head fall against the ground, the electricity still tingled on his fingertips. Sal inhaled a breath, closing his eye before opening and exhaling. The air around him felt thick to breathe, and he wouldn’t have minded falling asleep then and there with the ringing still against his ears.

However, the 20-year-old slowly made himself sit up, his back cracking and skin feeling too loose around his bones. He winced, a headache pulsating already and lethargy dragging at him.

He slowly turned his head to face the others, dazed, and his ears finally popped.

“What the hell? What the hell? Did you see that? What the hell?”

“Oh, my god. Oh, my god.”

“Who is that? What just happened?”

“Did you guys see that?”

“Who is it? See what?”

“What the hell? Were those Demodogs?”

“Demodogs?”

“Play on words, Steve!”

Sal closed his eye again, feeling like a flickering light, as though his heart was pumping too slowly. As though his mind had melted, as though his body was buoyant, spacing off and away.

And then a hand touched his shoulder, and his eye opened again. “Sal?” It was Hopper, and he stared down at him, eyebrows furrowed.

Sal pushed his hand off, turned away from the man, flicked up his mask, and vomited. And then again. And again.

He breathed heavily, feeling too drained to move, but managed to put his prosthetic down before anyone saw. He faced Hopper for barely a second before the man helped him up, and together they started to walk towards the others. There were now two cars near the entrance, one of them being Hopper’s police car and the other one he didn’t recognise.

The first thing Sal noticed was Mike staring at him through the window of the other car, eyes wide and mouth gaping. Dustin, Lucas, and Max all had similar expressions, standing outside Hopper’s truck along with one taller person Sal couldn’t recognise. Joyce sat in the back of the other car with two other people in the front, as well as Mike and most likely Will. Dustin started pacing, and Sal prepared himself for a bombard of questions.

But none came. There was only silence and the sound of Joyce’s sobbing.

“How did you get my car?” Hopper asked, annoyance in his voice as he faced a guy with weird, brown hair that reminded Sal of an unkept lions’ mane.

“I, uh...” The teenager stuttered, and Dustin stepped forward.

“I hardwired it,” He said proudly, and Hopper stared at the kid for a second. Sal sighed under his mask, pushing pass the three with a tired glance. He jumped in the front passenger’s seat of Hopper's car, resting his head against the window, feeling the tug of sleep but resisting it.

There was a grumble as Hopper got into his car, placing the gun on Sal’s lap who sent him a disgruntled look with his eye. Hopper ignored him, starting the car, and nodding for Lucas, Max, and Dustin to get in the back. The other teenager jumped in the covered boot of the car, sitting awkwardly behind the other three. Hopper started to back out, and soon they were on the road, the other car following closely.

“Is that your blood?” Hopper asked Sal, though he knew that the officer already knew it wasn’t and was most likely just leading up to the million-dollar question.

Sal glanced at him and decided to humour him anyway, saying, “No. I killed the one that came around the corner before.” He explained into the hushed car.

Hopper nodded, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel before questioning with a slightly raised voice, “With what? Your hidden superpowers you told no one about?”

Sal stared at his feet before glaring at the man, “No. With a knife. I don’t know how to use my _superpowers_.”

“Right.” Hopper seemed to scoff, and Sal felt his anger flare. It was odd for Sal to lose his temper, but this man was testing it.

“Why would I have to tell you about them anyway? I’ve known you for, what, three bloody days?” The 20-year-old snarked, and Hopper sent him a scowl.

The car fell silent, and Sal lent his head against the window once again, watching as the streetlights and forests flickered by, the Hawkins Lab building fading away.

**•————•**

Sal leaned against the wall; eye trained on the sink in front of him.

They had all gathered at the Byers home, Joyce retreating to her room to spend what little time she could to mourn. Will had been set down on the couch, still unconscious from the dosage of the needle his mother gave him. Mike and his friends had chosen to sit in the kitchen, along with the other three people Sal wasn’t familiar with. He could hear Hopper berating and arguing someone on the phone, and he let out a sigh.

A wave of nausea washed over him again and he dry-reached into the toilet, not being able to throw up anything. When was the last time he ate? Before the tunnel. Sal could barely remember the days he had been in Hawkins, and as he thought of food he got a sharp strike of pain in his stomach.

He couldn’t help but grumble to himself on the ground, starting to move into a bad mood. He was tired, hungry, and so terribly lonely. His heart ached for his friends, and he had never felt more alone in his entire life. But, like always, Sal pushed the drowning feelings away before he suffocated in them.

The 20-year-old, after recovering slightly, stood up and started washing the blood off of his prosthetic. After it was not _as_ stained, Sal glanced down at his black hoodie he got from the Lab, and he stared at the dried blood on it.

Sal then glanced at a hair tie on the bench and picked it up, shoving his blue hair up into a messy bun before putting his mask on. He exited the bathroom after getting his hoodie back on, walking down the hallway. Sal stepped into the kitchen, taking in the scene.

Dustin stood, leaning on the table, and watching Hopper. Lucas, Mike, and Max sat around the table and the teenager with the weird hair stood by the counters, gazing out into the night sky. Hopper talked on the phone, facing the loungeroom where Will was on the couch. The other teenage boy, who Sal assumed was Will’s brother crouched, mumbling something to him. Behind him stood the brown-haired girl who watched him, standing silent.

“They didn’t believe you, did they?” Dustin asked Hopper, who turned to face the kids on the table. Sal wrapped his arms around himself, leaning against the wall.

“We’ll see,” Hopper stated, glancing at Sal before asking, “And now what? You’re just not going to tell us about your party trick?”

“That’s the plan,” Sal replied, and Max snorted from her place on the table.

“Are you...” Dustin began a question, and Sal looked to the boy, “Are you like Eleven?”

Sal frowned from under his prosthetic, and Mike and the others looked to Dustin with wide eyes. “No, I’m not,” Sal replied, and the black-haired boy turned to stare at Sal.

“How do _you_ know about El?” Mike questioned; eyes narrowed. Hopper crossed his arms with a grunt.

Sal watched as Dustin scratched the back of his neck, the boy answering, “I told him about...everything...a few days ago,” He quickly put his hands up in defence, “He’s trustworthy!” The boy insisted quickly when everyone looked at him.

“Oh, what, without the party’s vote? You were giving me shit for telling Max but you told Michael Myers here? Hypocrite!” Lucas questioned his friend, waving his hands around. Sal barely blinked at the nickname, as he knew he had been called much worse.

Dustin gestured his hands, about to say something before Mike suddenly interrupted, looking at Lucas, “You told Max?!”

Hopper stepped forward, a frustrated look in his eyes as he looked at them all, “Stop arguing.” It was all he needed to say for them to stop.

It was barely quiet for a moment before the teenager by the sink spoke up, a puzzled expression planted on his face as he pointed to Sal, “Wait, who are you?”

Sal shrugged, looking back, “I don’t know, who are you?”

“Uh,” he said dumbly, before replying with, “Steve Harrington.”

“Cool.” Sal couldn’t help but keep a cold tone.

 _Why am I being such an ass?_ Sal thought to himself, and his tired mind state grumbled back at himself.

“Why are you being such an ass?” Mike asked, and Sal rose his eyebrow in surprise.

“I don’t know? Maybe it hasn’t been the best day or _week_ , Mike.” Sal grumbled back, and he prepared himself for an argument when the boy opened his mouth.

“ _Mike_ ,” a warning voice said, and Sal looked to his left to see the teenage girl entering the room. She looked at the boy before meeting Sal’s eye, and he saw something akin to recognition go through her eyes.

 _Not possible,_ he thought, _I’ve never seen this girl in my life._

She held out her hand, introducing herself, “Nancy Wheeler.”

Sal glanced at her hand before giving in and shaking it, knowing he’d seem like even more of an ass if he didn’t shake it, “Sal Fisher.” He noticed the way she glanced down at his wrist and narrowed his eye.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Sal looked over to see Steve talking, the teenager blinking, “What’s with the Mitch Myers thing?” He gestured to his own face, and Sal tried not to sigh under his prosthetic.

“ _Michael_ Myers,” Dustin corrected Steve, said boy waving if off.

“It’s a prosthetic. I was in an accident when I was younger,” Sal said quietly, and the room fell silent as Steve apologised with a ‘ _shit, sorry_ ’.

Sal glanced down at his shoes as the room continued to be hushed, up until Nancy took in a breath, her eyes sharp as she glanced up. She clenched her jaw for a moment before asking tensely, “What happened?”

“ _Nance,_ ” The other boy winced out, his voice quiet and croaky. She spared him a glance before looking intently.

Sal stared at her for a second, not knowing what to say. Usually, everyone left the conversation at the whole ‘ _it’s a prosthetic_ ’ thing, but Nancy seemed determined to get an answer. And, oddly enough, he found himself wanting to tell the people in the room. He trusted them, and he could easily tell the three teenagers he barely knew were on the _good_ side.

“I...it’s a _really_ long story,” Sal stated, looking over and meeting Hopper’s eyes, “Longer than yours.”

And that’s how he found himself sitting on the loungeroom ground, the others gathered around him. He wondered what his friends would think, revealing their biggest secret ever. He guessed they wouldn’t mind. They would never know, anyway.

“To know why exactly I got my mask, you kind of have to know the backstory. In, I don’t know, the 17th century I think, a cult called the Devourers of God were formed. They had a pretty big sole purpose of wanting to summon this really evil demon called Red-Eyes or The Void, who can— _could_ infect worlds and ‘devourer’ souls. Well, it wasn’t really a demon. More like an alien demon, but that’s a different story. Sometime in the 1900’s a boy called Terrence Addison was offered to the cult by his family to be a vessel thing for this...giant slug monster called The Endless One. Sometime later, his entire family ended up getting infected by Red-Eyes. I know this hardly makes any sense. I barely understand it myself. But Terrence, still _kind of alive_ managed to kill his entire family to stop the spread of the infections or possessions of Red-Eye. He was then locked in his room at Addison’s Apartment, his building, by the cult.

There was then a prophecy stated sometime, I’m not sure when, that ‘ _The Child of the Abomination_ ’ would end the cult. This...man named Jim Johnson joined the cult to stop them from killing the kid, but I’m pretty sure he was killed by them anyway. And then the cult went on a massive rampage to find the kid and kill them, but it was all covered up because basically _everyone_ was apart of the cult. The rampage managed to find its’ way to me and my mum, out on a picnic one day.”

Sal took a breath and glanced up. All of the others were listening with wide eyes, some a little more disbelieving than others but Sal didn’t mind. It’s not like it wasn’t an _extremely_ implausible story. He went to continue, but Dustin interrupted.

“You...you’re telling the truth? Demons are real? _Demons_?” The boy asked, his voice slightly squeaky.

Sal nodded quickly, and was going to say something but just chose to continue. 

“They all told me it was a dog attack that left me scarred and my mum dead. But I know it wasn’t. It was a man with a _shotgun_ ,” Sal spat the word, “and he tried to shoot me. It should have been me, but my mum jumped in front of me. The bullet went straight through her, and then messed up my face. My dad didn’t believe me about the man, but I know it’s true. I then had to get my prosthetic because they couldn’t fix my face.”

Sal leaned back into the couch behind him glancing at the others.

Lucas stated, “Go on.” He waved his hand for him to continue, and the others nodded and hummed and grunted in agreement.

“Okay. Well, when I was 15 I moved to Addison’s Apartments. Terrence was still there, just never showed his body, just his face and sometimes hands. I should have questioned it, but I didn’t. I met my best friends’ at the apartments, and lived there until...recently. Anyway, when I was 15 I met Larry Johnson, and then I discovered that ghosts exist.”

Sal watched as Hoper blinked, saying, “What? Demons _and_ ghosts?”

“Yeah. I’ve met a few,” Sal stated, continuing before any of the younger boys could ask questions, seeing their wide, curious eyes, “I met another friend of mine, Todd, he’s really smart, and he turned my gear boy into a ghost detector machine, but that happened later. There was a police investigation happening in the apartments, and I went into the room where the murder happened. A woman called Mrs Sanderson had been killed, and I worked with Larry to find the killer, who turned out to be this creepy glitter pony-loving dude called Charley, who was actually a host for Red-Eyes.”

“Why did you move into a house with a police investigation going on in the first place?” Will’s brother asked, confused.

“We didn’t know about it. My dad wasn’t exactly...in the best headspace at the time and he just didn’t check, I guess. I never asked why, Larry just asked me for help with it because he saw Charley kill her.” Sal shrugged.

“What?” Mike questioned, “He saw it?”

“He was cleaning their toilet,” Sal explained, “I know this whole thing sounds like bogus, but just...trust me. It only gets weirder from here.”

As they all slowly nodded, the 20-year-old continued.

“I met a ghost called Meghan, the first one I ever came in contact with. She’s this little girl who drowned, but not really—that’s _also_ a different story. Larry didn’t believe that I met a ghost, and I wanted to prove him wrong. He sent me to talk to Todd, who was known as ‘the believer of the unknown’ and that’s when he upgraded my gear boy into ghost detector.

I also met my other friend, Ashley, at Todd’s place because he was tutoring her. Anyway, a lot happened and we found some ghosts, talked to them, and then I came into contact with Red-Eyes for the first time. Larry saved me though. Oh, and I also met Larry’s dead father, Jim Johnson, who turned out to be this weird phantom thing and I couldn’t understand anything he was saying.”

Sal took another deep breath and looked around, asking, “Want me to sum up the rest? A lot more happened and it would take hours to tell it.”

Hopper nodded, waving his hand for him to continue.

“Okay, so over the years a lot happened. It turned out one of my teachers was a part of the cult and had our school feeding us human flesh that she would skin off of students she’d take, but of course, me and my friends didn’t like it. Anyway, we found out she was feeding us something weird so we broke into her room at Addison’s Apartment, found human bones and skin in a box and then Ashley fell down a giant hole in her apartment. Me, Larry, and Todd find another secret entrance, find out about the huge temple under Addison’s Apartments and find Ash, who’s thankfully okay. Then the next day we learn our cultist teachers been killed by a drunk driver.”

“She was feeding you all...human? Like, literal human? And you _ate_ it?” Steve asked, eyes wide.

“I didn’t. She called it bologna, so no one really questioned it? Only a few people actually ate it; my friend Chug, but he ate everything really, and this kid called Travis.” Sal felt silent as his old bully’s name fell out of his mouth.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had even thought of the blonde-haired boy and hoped all of a sudden he was okay. He knew the boy had most likely been gay from the note, and Sal was sure his father wouldn’t have liked it. He cleared his mind and continued his story.

“And then everything returned to normal for about five years. I had moved in with Todd and Neil, another friend of mine, and Larry was going to move in soon as well. But then I got more bad dreams and visions and stuff, so Larry agreed to do one last search around Addison’s Apartments with me before he moved in.”

Sal fell silent for a moment, lost in the memory. Why hadn’t he just forgot about it? Why didn’t he just get Larry to move in as soon as possible? Then his friend wouldn’t be dead. His best friend would be alive.

“Sal?” Nancy’s concerned voice asked, and Sal blinked away the feeling of grief that washed over him. He continued telling them of his past.

“Sorry,” He said quietly, seeing Dustin share a look with Mike, “Anyway, yeah, uh, Ashley came to visit because she’d been away at Art school for a bit. We talked for a little while and then I went back to my place to get ready to investigate with Larry. But...uh, when I got home, I, um. My phone. I had a text. From Larry.”

Sal stopped, clearing his throat as his heart ached. Ached. Why? Why did Larry have to go like that?

“You don’t have to continue, kid,” Hopper said quietly, obviously knowing where this was going and Sal glanced at him.

“No. I want to,” The blue-haired-boy mumbled before talking louder, “Larry sent me some...dubious texts. I rushed to Addison’s Apartment’s, only to find his suicide note. He’d killed himself. I...uh, yeah. He killed himself. I went to Todd, who gave me a modified version of my guitar which could summon ghosts and etcetera. I went to investigate Larry’s death, and I don’t remember much, but I was teleported to the ceiling.

I then met the ghost of Alyson Rosenberg, who was an old lady who used to live in the apartments. I forgot to mention her before, but she was a part of the cult but betrayed them for some reason was killed for it. I was also met with the ghost of Larry. I...yeah.”

Sal paused for another moment and felt a headache incoming. The room was silent, and he continued.

“We were both given the task to stop Terrence's or The Endless One’s infection from spreading throughout Addison’s Apartments. We had to break this pillar thing that was controlling everyone in the apartments. And we did...but it didn’t stop it. We were too late, and everyone was already consumed by the darkness. But I didn’t know that, so I went to try and help Terrence, but I found out about him being The Endless One itself. I managed to kill it with my guitar, but yeah...I was too late. I failed, and I was told the truth. I was The Child of Ambition, and I was therefore given the task by the ghost of Terrence to kill everyone infected so it wouldn’t spread, like how Terrence had to. But I couldn’t. It would mean I’d have to kill my father and people I’d known for five years. I couldn’t.”

Sal halted in his words, looking up at the others.

Hopper had no emotion displayed, but Mike and his friends all had similar horrified expressions. Nancy and Will’s brother looked solemn, and Steve was staring at the ground, hardly even moving.

“What happened after?” Nancy finally managed to say, and Sal frowned under his prosthetic, taking in another inhale.

“As I said, I couldn’t do it. It was weird...because next thing I knew, I was in Hawkins, Indiana, 1984. About 20 years back in time.” Sal said, and he watched as everyone’s mouths practically hit the floor.

“What?” Dustin seemed to screech, his eyes wide and voice high pitched.

“Time travel? You’re a time traveller? No. No. No! What the hell. As if. No! No. What the hell!” Lucas rambled, Max staring into Sal’s soul with wide, round eyes.

Mike was clutching the sides of his hair, and Steve was finally looking at Sal, looking extremely perplexed and challenged. Nancy had gone pale, and Jonathon had a sickly look on his face.

Sal looked over at Hopper, who was staring at him, eyebrows furrowed so far down they almost covered his eyes.

“You’re...you’re being serious? Seriously? You’re...from the future?” Nancy stammered out quickly, and Sal nodded.

If Sal thought it had silent before, he was mistaken, because it was completely and utterly silent in the room after his confirmation.

He chose to speak so their minds wouldn’t seem to cease to exist, “And I don’t think the cult exists in this dimension, but I can still talk to ghosts, and I managed to talk to Jim Johnson once before he disappeared completely, saying I was going to be alone for a long time. The electricity powers are new though. I don’t know where they came from, and I also have _no_ idea what happened to my friends or my reality.”

He didn’t mention how he saw Red-Eye and doesn’t know if it was real or not.

Sal sighed before he suddenly felt himself standing up, hands slightly shaking as he said quietly, “I’m gonna go get some air. I’ll uh...yeah. I understand if you don’t believe me, but, I don’t know, please try?”

He exited the house, walking out with his hands wrapped around himself. He sat down on the front porch, the cold air making him feel slightly more alive. Sal glanced up at the stars and felt himself wanting to sleep under them. He knew it would be a dumb decision, though, and instead let out a huff. The 20-year-old could hear his own heart in his ears, and sighed, eye twitching under his prosthetic.

He didn’t know how long it had been before he went back inside, and almost immediately he noticed the busy atmosphere, especially when Dustin slammed a book down on the table in the kitchen.

Everyone was surrounding the table, and Sal listened as Dustin said, “The Mind Flayer.”

Sal stepped into the kitchen, standing next to Hopper, and they both said in sync, “What the hell is that?” Sal glanced at the policeman with a surprised look, and Hopper raised his brows at him back.

“It’s a monster from an unknown dimension,” Dustin began to explain, “It’s so ancient that it doesn’t even know its’ true home. Okay, it enslaves races of other dimensions by taking over their brains using highly developed psionic powers. I now realise how much it has in common with Sal’s demon friend.”

Sal snorted lightly, and Hopper said, “Oh, my God, the Mind Flare isn’t real. It’s from a _kid’s game_.”

Dustin looked at the book and then back up, Steve staring down at it with furrowed brows from his place next to the kid, “Mind _Flayer_. And, first of all, _no_. it’s a _manual_. And it’s not for kids. And unless you know something we don’t, this is the best metaphor—”

“Analogy.” Lucas interrupted, and Sal frowned under his prosthetic.

“Analogy?” Dustin questioned his friend, “ _That’s_ what you’re worried about? Fine. An analogy for understanding whatever the hell this is.” His voice was raised slightly, and Sal glanced to Nancy who opened her mouth to speak.

“So, this Mind Flamer thing—” She began, leaning down to look at the books.

“ _Flayer_. Mind _Flayer_.”

Nancy sighed, continuing her question, “What does it want?”

“To conquer us, basically,” Dustin began explaining again, and Sal pinched himself to stop his stomach from rumbling, as it was currently the worst time, “Y’know, it believes it’s the master race.”

Steve stammered out an example, “Like the Germans?”

“Uh, the Nazis?” Dustin asked, looking to the older teenager.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, the Nazis.”

“Uh...” Dustin said, and Sal glanced to Hopper to see the man rubbing his face in exasperation, “If the Nazi’s were from another dimension, totally. Uh, it views races, like us, as inferior to itself.”

Mike took over, saying, “It wants to spread, take over other dimensions.”

“We are talking about the destruction of our world as we know it,” Lucas added, and Sal thought to himself, _I feel like I’ve heard that phrase a lot._

“That’s great. That’s great.” Steve started grumbling, “That’s really great. Jesus!” He stepped away from the table.

“Okay, so if this thing is like a brain that’s controlling everything, then if we kill it...?” Nancy’s voice trailed off for a moment, and Mike continued for her.

“We kill everything it controls.”

“We win,” Dustin confirms, and Sal wondered if it was as easy as that.

“Theoretically.” Lucas finished, and Hopper paced over to where Nancy held the book.

“Alright, great,” The Chief said, and Sal leaned against the table, “So how do you kill this thing? Shoot it with fireballs or something?” He could tell the man was aggravated and frustrated, as well as stressed.

Dustin chuckled, replying with, “No. No, no Fire—no fireballs. Uh, you summon an undead army, uh, because...” Dustin’s amused face fell at Hopper’s straight one and he cleared his throat saying, “because zombies, you know, they don’t have brains, and the Mind Flayer, it...it...it likes brains.”

Hopper handed the book back to the kid who stated, “It’s just a game. It’s just a game.”

Hopper sighed, turning away from them as he snarked, “What the hell are we doing here?”

“I thought we were waiting for your _military backup_ ,” Dustin stated, and Sal thought it sounded as though he was mocking it. It had seemed like an okay idea to Sal.

“We are!” Hopper said, and Mike opened his mouth to join the rising argument.

“But even if they do come, how are they gonna stop this?” Mike questioned, continuing with a hasty shrug, “You can’t just shoot this with guns.”

Hopper stared down at Mike, now aggravated, “You don’t know that! We don’t know anything!”

Sal, for a moment, muted their argument. What if he knew someone? A ghost? Would Dr Blake even come to him if there were so many people? Would Dr Blake even know anything?

“We know it’s already killed everybody in the lab!” Mike stated, staring at the policeman.

“We know the monsters are gonna moult again,” Lucas added, and Dustin continued from his friends.

Sal watched as the boy leaned forward, saying, “And we know that it’s only a matter of time before those tunnels reach this town.”

Sal and the others all turned as Joyce walked into the room, her voice quiet and stricken as she said, “They’re right.” Her eyes were dark, hands clenched by her side as she added, “We _have_ to kill it. I want to kill it.”

Hopper stepped forward, and Sal frowned from under his mask, feeling empathy for the woman. She had seen the man she loved die in the most horrific way, and Sal couldn’t help but feel a pang in his chest. He should have helped, in some way. He should have arrived earlier, and then he might’ve been able to save Bob.

“Me, too.” Hopper said, interrupting Sal’s thoughts, “Me, too, Joyce, okay? But how do we do that? We don’t exactly know what we’re dealing with here.” Joyce looked up at the Chief with wide, watery eyes, and Sal glanced at Mike as he stepped forward, towards the lounge room.

“No. But _he_ does,” the black-haired-boy started, “If anyone knows how to destroy this thing, it’s Will. He’s connected to it. He’ll know its weakness.”

The others stood up and followed Mike into the lounge room. Sal watched them, narrowing his eye at Will.

“I thought we couldn’t trust him anymore.” Max said, speaking his mind, “That he’s a spy for the Mind Flayer now.”

“Yeah, but he can’t spy if he doesn’t know where he is,” Mike said, and Sal had a feeling he had an idea on his mind.

**•————•**

Sal helped the others reinforce the shed.

They were preparing to try and talk to Will in a concealed location, and Sal started putting some layers on the outer area of the shed, beginning to feel the effects of not eating or sleeping for a prolonged time.

He let out a sigh as he worked, but a few minutes later found himself sitting on the porch, hands wrapped around his stomach. He couldn’t help but feel it would be weird if he asked for food during such an important time, so he sat.

“You okay, kid?” Hopper suddenly questioned, looking at him. The man stood, wrapping tape around an object Sal assumed was for the shed, and he blinked at the Chief.

“Uh, yeah, I was just...” Sal went to continue, but his stomach got a painful cramp and he winced, leaning downwards. And then it rumbled, fairly loud.

Hopper’s eyebrows raised and he stared at Sal, who glanced up at him, “You’re hungry? When was the last time you ate?”

“Uh, I don’t...” Sal started, thinking for a moment. It would have had to have been the morning when Hopper called for him to go to the Byers home. He sighed, saying, “I don’t know? A few days ago, I think. The morning before we got lost in the tunnels.”

“What? The doctors at the Lab didn’t offer you food?” Hopper asked, and a surprised look was on him.

Sal shook his head in reply, glancing to the ground. They must have forgotten too. Hopper sighed, rubbing his face, and saying, “Go inside. I’m pretty sure Joyce wouldn’t mind you taking an apple or something, kid.”

Sal nodded slowly, knowing it would be no use to argue with the man. After the confirmation, Hopper walked back to the shed. Sal stood up, going towards the kitchen. It was oddly quiet in the house, and he felt himself become unnerved, glancing over his shoulder. An odd feeling washed over him, but he ignored it, grabbing an apple from the fruit basket.

Sal then exited back outside and chose to lean at an angle where the others wouldn’t be able to see his face if he flicked his mask up to eat. He knew he could trust them, but he didn’t know if he wanted them to see. Only his father, Larry, Ash, and a few doctors and psychiatrists had seen him without his prosthetic.

He started eating, watching as the others finished up the touches to the shed.

It was around half an hour later when the Chief turned to face him.

“You comin’ in?” Hopper asked, looking at Sal, standing at the door to the shed. 

The small shelter was ready, and they had already taken Will in, ready to try and get him back. Mike, Joyce, Jonathon—who’s name Sal had learned before, and now Hopper were going to be in it, the others in the house.

Sal shook his head to the Chief, explaining himself, “I don’t want Will to see me. The Mind Flayer might be able to get the Demodog things to find me because I’m slightly connected to Will.”

“Demodogs?”

“That’s what Dustin called them,” Sal shrugged, and Hopper frowned before walking over to him.

Sal watched as he opened his coat, revealing a small pistol at his belt. The man held it out to him, and Sal stared at him. “I...what?” Sal questioned, taking the gun, and holding it.

“You can keep guard for us. Do you know how to use it?” Hopper asked, and Sal nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” he stated, checking that the magazine and clips were secure, “My dad taught me when I was younger,”

Hopper nodded and didn’t say anything as he left, walking back to the shed and closing the door behind him.

Sal sighed, preparing for a long night.

**•————•**

Sal jolted slightly when Hopper and the others exited the shed quickly, and he stood up.

“What’s happening?” He asked, but Hopper walked past him, into the house. He and the others followed, and Sal put the pistol on safety.

Hopper grabbed a notepad and sat on the chair around the kitchen table, grabbing a pen.

“What happened?” Dustin asked immediately, the others gathering around the table as Sal stood next to Hopper, placing the pistol on the table.

Hopper sighed, saying, “I think he’s talking, just not with _words_.” The man wrote down some symbols Sal recognised, and he felt himself already knowing what it was.

“Hey, what is that?” Steve questioned, and the boys answered in sync.

“Morse code.”

“H-E-R-E.” Hopper stated, everyone repeating, “Here.”

“Will’s still in there,” Hopper said, looking up at them, “He’s talking to us.” He turned and glanced at 

Joyce, who nodded, eyes round.

It was barely a moment later before Sal was back outside, keeping watch with his pistol, eye observing the forest around him.

The sound of _Should I Stay or Should I go_ by _The Clash_ started coming from the shed, and Sal started softly bobbing his head to the song.

**•————•**

The telephone started ringing.

It made Sal jolt, and he stood up, eye wide as he stared at the door to the house and then back to the shed, where the song had stopped playing. He held his breath when it stopped, and then started again, and then stopped, everything silent for a moment.

Sal winced, clutching his head for a moment when everything flashed—into the tunnels, then out. Into, then out. The 20-year-old leaned against one of the thin pillars, holding his gun up shakily as he watched the trees.

Hopper and the others stepped out of the tent, and Sal went to speak but was cut off by the chilling monster screeches in the distance.

“Get in the house!” Hopper shouted to Sal, who nodded, opening the door behind him, and looking to the others already in the house.

“What happened?” Nancy asked Sal, who didn’t answer. He gazed out into the forest, making sure he could see nothing before answering.

“They’re coming,” Sal said, and Joyce, Mike, Jonathon, and an unconscious Will entered the house, Jonathon carrying his brother. The 20-year-old closed the door, and Sal watched as Hopper entered through the kitchen door, a long gun in his hands.

“Hey. Hey, get away from the windows!” The man growled to Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Max as they gathered around it, staring out into the darkness. Hopper grabbed his gun that he used in the Lab.

Sal stepped into the left side of the lounge room, watching as everyone shuffled to different spaces.

“Do you know how to use this?” Hopper asked Jonathon, holding out the long gun, which Sal assumed was a rifle. The 20-year-old turned off the safety on his gun, and Jonathon stammered at the Chief.

“What?” The teenager asked, and Sal looked between them.

“ _Can you use this_?” Hopper questioned again, face unnerved.

Nancy stepped forward, holding out her hands, “I can.”

Hopper handed her the gun, and Sal held his breath, listening for the creatures, his heart thumping.

There was screeching once again, causing Sal to almost go back into the connection again. He ignored the summon and blinked, shaking his head slightly. There was another howl, and Max looked around at the others.

“Where are they?” She asked, voice desperate.

They all gasped when there was a loud thud, causing them to turn to the right, facing the sound. “What are they doing?” Nancy said, her voice quiet. The bushes rustled outside, and Sal bit his tongue, waiting for something to happen. There was a sudden snarl back in front of them, and they all turned to the growls once again.

More snarls, groans and screeching came from the outside of the house and Sal snapped, “What the hell? Are they fighting each other?”

It went silent for a moment, the monsters quiet. And then one smashed through the window, causing all of them to scream in shock. It laid at the back of the room, it’s body limp, and Sal couldn’t help but feel it didn’t go through the window on its’ own accord.

Hopper slowly stepped forward, nuzzling the monster with the head of his gun.

“Holy shit,” Dustin said, and Max asked, “Is it dead?”

The front door suddenly creaked, causing the lot of them to turn to face it, Sal pointing his gun again even if something was _definitely_ off.

He watched as the lock on the door turned on its own, as well as the chain sliding softly. His breath got caught in his throat, and Sal put his pistol down, eye wide. The door groaned open.

A girl stepped through, blood dripping from her nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you all enjoyed and it met your expectations! as a said in the top authors note, the next chapter is going to be the last one. I'll be going onto season three after a short break though!!  
> I'm posting this while I'm in class so sorry if these authors note seems rushed! thanks for all the support <33  
> also sorry for the slight delay in this chapter, I was vomiting this morning and i wasn't feeling all that good but I'm fine now! see you's soon :D  
> \----  
> ask me anything on Tumblr! [@lacuniaa](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/lacuniaa)


	10. demon of void & soul of lightening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter of this book!!! please please enjoy this, as it is actually around 11,000 words!! leave your thoughts in the comments <3333  
> trigger warning: self-harm, though not in the suicidal form.

**•——** **◤** **✧◥** **——•**

**⑉ TEN** **⑉**

**— (** demon of void and soul of lightening — **THE GATE )**

 **— (** 18/05/2020 **)**

**•——** **◣** **✧◢** **——•**

Sal watched, with a wide eye, as Mike stepped forward, his voice breathless as he whispered, “Eleven.” 

Sal blinked. What? 

_This is Eleven?_ He thought, frowning under his prosthetic, _she’s alive? How? Didn’t the Demogorgon kill her?_

From the looks on everyone’s faces, Sal guessed that was what they were all thinking. 

But he had to be honest with himself. He did not expect the girl with the mind-powers, the hero, the science experiment to look slightly like Maple, with the black eyeliner and mascara. But he figured he should focus on more important things. 

The girl before them mumbled out Mike’s name, the two embracing tightly. Sal glanced away for a second when he glanced up at the shattered window. He squinted against the darkness, an odd feeling rolling over him.

“Is that...” Sal heard Max whisper to Lucas and Dustin, the 20-year-old glancing back to them. 

“I never gave up on you,” Mike stated, pulling away from Eleven, his voice hushed, “I called you every night. Every night for—” 

“For three hundred and fifty-five days,” Eleven interrupted, and Sal could already feel himself realising, “I heard.”

The atmosphere in the room seemed to go even colder, and Sal glanced over at Hopper, who had an unreadable expression on his face. But in his eyes...the man seemed almost _soft_. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were there?” Mike questioned, Sal shifting his feet, “That you were okay?” 

“Because I wouldn’t let her,” Hopper stated, stepping forward, and Mike looked at the man, eyebrows furrowed. Eleven looked up at him. 

“The hell is this? Where you been?” Hopper asked, and Sal watched as a dark expression fell over Mike’s face. He could already hear an argument coming, but he blinked when another wave of the weird feeling washed over him again. Sal ignored it, looking back to Eleven and the Chief. 

“Where have _you_ been?” Eleven snarked back, and Hopper grabbed her in a hug. The man must have been keeping her safe this whole time, making sure the Lab wouldn’t want to hurt her. Sal could understand that but knew from the sudden words coming out from Mike that he did not. 

“You’ve been hiding her,” Mike said, and then rushed forward, shoving Hopper in the back, “You’ve been hiding her this whole time!” 

Sal felt his eye widen as Hopper turned around, a scowl on his face, “Hey!” He spat, grabbing the kid by the collar. “Let’s talk,” The man growled. Sal met Hopper’s eyes as he glanced up at him for a second before Hopper added, ”Alone.” 

They all watched as Mike and Hopper walked into a separate room, and Sal put his gun away, eye glancing out the window again. He could already hear muffled yelling coming from the other room, and he found himself sharing a glance with Joyce, who stood with a solemn look on her face. 

“Are you okay?” She suddenly asked as Lucas and Dustin went to reconcile with Eleven. He could already feel the surprise flowing throughout him from the woman’s words. 

“Uh...yeah,” Sal answered with a shrug, and he could feel her gaze lingering on him. She must have seen his continuous looks outside, “I’m fine. How are you doing with all that’s happened?” He regretted the question almost immediately, as a look went over Joyce’s face as though Sal had reopened a wound. 

_Maybe there wouldn’t be a wound,_ A quiet voice whispered to Sal, and he felt his heart almost drop, _if you had been there in time. Maybe Bob wouldn’t be dead._

The thought was abrupt and unusual; causing immediate guilt into the 20-year-old. He hated to think it, to feel it, to _know_ it, but in the end, it was true. If Sal hadn’t been so stupid and got split up from the others in the Lab, he could have saved Bob. He could have saved someone, _anyone_ from something. Like he was meant to do his whole life; be a saviour. 

But he had failed. Just like how he had failed in Addison’s Apartments. 

Joyce frowned, glancing to her feet before looking up at Sal, “I...I’ll get better. I have to, for Will and Jonathon.” Her voice held determination in it, and he could feel the conversation end. 

He looked at the others to see a content Max holding out her hand for Eleven to seemingly shake it, the latter staring at the redhead. Max’s greeting smile slowly turned to a frown as Eleven stepped past her, straight into the embrace of a welcoming Joyce. 

“Hey. Hey, sweetheart.” Joyce cooed, and Sal felt awkward from his spot next to the two. 

They pulled back from each other, and Eleven seemed to want to say something, but her eyes widened as she glanced at Sal, who frowned from under his prosthetic. 

“Who...who are you?” She asked, stepping away from Joyce who glanced between the two. Sal wondered how he could answer the question when Dustin stepped forward, making Sal already want to groan in exasperation. 

“He’s a _time traveller_ ,” Dustin whispered, spreading his hands out dramatically as the girl stared at him, confused. 

“What?” She questioned, and Lucas shoved Dustin softly. 

Sal stared at the curly-haired kid, willing Dustin to continue introducing him since the boy seemed happy to do it. 

Dustin stammered from Sal’s gaze, explaining to Eleven, “He’s from, uh, the future. Y’know? Like, he, uh, time travelled back in time to the past. To now.” Lucas looked as though he wanted to pinch his nose, but Eleven nodded in understanding. Dustin fell quiet, and Steve patted his shoulder.

“You’re from the...future?” She asked slowly, turning back to Sal. He noticed how her eyes scanned his prosthetic and hair. 

Sal nodded, saying, “Yeah. I’m Sal.” He didn’t hold out his hand, having a feeling that she wouldn’t shake it from either not trusting him or just not knowing what to do. 

Eleven looked as though she wanted to ask more, but turned back to Joyce, asking, “Can I see him?” Joyce sighed, a small gentle smile on her face. 

The two walked out to go see Will, who had been put back in his bed. Sal turned, looking at Max as she spoke. 

“Why doesn’t she like me?” The girl asked, looking at Lucas who shrugged awkwardly. 

Sal dimmed out their conversation, about to stare out the window again when Nancy’s voice asked, “Sal?” He turned to look at her, seeing Jonathon and Steve both doing the same. 

“You said...you said you went about 20 years into the past, right?” She started, and Sal nodded in confirmation, causing her to continue, “Well, how old are you?” 

“Uhm, I’m 20,” Sal said quietly, watching as Steve’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“You’re _20_?” The teenager asked, sounding perplexed like usual. 

Sal clenched his jaw under his prosthetic, “What’s that suppose to mean?” 

_If he says something about my height,_ Sal thought to himself, already knowing he would. People always did. 

“You’re like, what, 5’4?” Steve asked, and Jonathon stared at him. Sal felt his eye twitch slightly. 

“I’m 5’6.” The 20-year-old grumbled, leaning against the wall. Dustin suddenly opened his mouth, an amused look on his face. 

“How tall were you when you were in high school?” Dustin queried, and Lucas and Max were now watching. Sal wondered why everyone in the room was so curious about his height, and he wished for Hopper and Mike to walk out and capture the attention again. He already got enough shit from Travis about it and teasing from Larry and Ashley, Todd thankfully being nice. 

“5’2.” Sal mumbled, and the others craned their heads forward, all collectively not hearing so Sal repeated himself, “5’2. Now shut up.” 

Steve’s eyes widened, and the teenager looked as though he was struggling to not laugh. Actually, all looked as though they were trying not to laugh, even Nancy. 

Lucas chuckled out, “Dude, my 9-year-old sister is, like, taller than you.” Sal rolled his eye. He hadn’t heard _that_ one. The others giggled a little bit.

“Oh, _haha_ , yes, this is so funny,” He snarked as the room’s atmosphere seemed to ease, and he couldn’t lie to himself and say it _wasn’t_ nice to see them like this. Laughing. 

But then it all stopped as Eleven and Joyce stepped into the kitchen, staring down at the table, looking at something. They all turned, watching as Joyce began to speak to Eleven. 

“You opened this gate before, right?” She questioned; voice tight. Sal walked over to the two, curious. The others followed after him, and Sal quickly took a spot at the front, not wanting to have to crane his neck over someone’s shoulder. He didn’t miss the quick, knowing glance Steve and Dustin shared.

On the table was the scribbled ‘ _CLOSE GATE_ ’ Nancy had recorded from Will’s Morse code, and Sal held his breath for a second. 

Eleven nodded, voice almost a whisper, “Yes.” 

Joyce looked to the words and then back to the girl, ‘Do you think if we got you back there, that you could close it?”

Eleven didn’t answer, looking at Joyce before looking in front of her, a frown planted on her face. 

Sal swore he heard a distant screech and looked over his shoulder, cold. 

**•————•**

Hopper sighed, his voice raspy as he said, ‘It’s not like it was before. It’s grown,”

They all stood around the kitchen table, ominous fog settling around the house as the night was filled with silence. Sal couldn’t remember the last time he had slept, and it was starting to show in the way his movements were slow and voice was more muffled than usual. Hopper had already sent him a few glances, but Sal knew they had more important things to focus on than sleeping. 

“A lot.” The man continued, “And, I mean, that’s considering we get in there. The place is crawling with those dogs.” He looked to Dustin as the boy corrected him. 

“Demodogs.” 

Sal groaned under his prosthetic. He himself had already used the word, and Hopper knew of it but he doubted the man could remember the short conversation because of the huge problem at hand. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Hopper asked, proving Sal’s theory. 

“I said, uh, Demodogs,” Dustin stated, “Like Demogorgon and dogs. Like, you put ‘em together, it sounds pretty badass—” 

“How is this important right now?” Hopper said, his eyebrows furrowed. Sal buried his head in his arms, not bothering to look up for the bickering. 

Dustin replied, “It’s not. I’m sorry.” 

“I can do it,” Eleven suddenly said, and Sal looked up. The girl stood next to Lucas, and the whole table looked over to her. 

“You’re not hearing me,” Hopper answered, and Sal watched as he and Mike shared a glance. 

“I’m hearing you. I can do it.” 

“Even if El can,” Mike joined the conversation, “there’s still another problem. If the brain dies, the body dies.” 

Sal shivered a second. He knew they meant Will, but he couldn’t help but wonder if _he_ was also apart of the body. What would happen to him if the Mind Flayer was killed, or if the gate was closed off? Would Sal himself die? 

_No,_ He realised with a small burst of relief, _I’m connected to Will. Not the Mind Flayer. I’ll be fine._

“I thought that was the whole point,” Max said, squinting at Mike. 

“It is, but if we’re really right about this...I mean, if El closes the gate and kills the Mind Flayer’s army...” 

“Will’s a part of that army,” Lucas said, resignation painted across his face. 

“Closing the gate will kill him,” Mike finished, and Sal looked up, meeting the calculating look in Hopper’s eyes. 

“What about you?” The Chief questioned, and Sal felt all eyes turn on him, “I remember you saying you were connected to Will.” It seemed Hopper had read his mind, and the 20-year-old was about to answer when Eleven spoke up. 

“What do you mean? Connected...to Will?” She queried, and Sal realised that she didn’t even know about his electricity and ghost... _affiliations._

He turned, saying, “I’m somehow connected to Will. Ever since I was sent here, I’ve seen into The Upside Down whenever he has, seen into the Mind Flayer whenever he has, sometimes even the Demodogs perspective. It’s only short flashback things, so it’s a pretty weak link.” 

Sal looked back over to Hopper, saying, “I don’t think I’ll die, in the end.” 

“ _Think_?” Hopper started “You think you won’t die? That’s not an answer, kid.” 

Sal shrugged, glancing down at his hands. He didn’t know. How could he know? 

_Do I even care?_ Sal thought, and he almost winced at the thought. It...hurt. Physically hurt to realise, to think that he didn’t really care if he would die. He shoved it all down. All away, and tried to ignore the fact everything inside him was about to overflow, and it wasn’t long before it all poured open. 

The table fell silent, and Sal glanced up, seeing Joyce hold a look of silent horror and fear on her face, and his heart ached. He made a promise in his head. 

No one else was going to die. He would save Will. He would save everyone. 

**•————•**

“He likes it cold.” Joyce murmured, stepping into Will’s bedroom as the boy slept, still as a log. 

The lot of them had followed the Byer room, and Sal stood next to Hopper by Will’s desk. 

“It’s what Will kept saying to me,” She looked over to the open window and stepped towards it, “He likes it cold.” She closed the window quickly, and Sal’s eye widened in realisation as to what she was talking about. 

“We keep giving it what it wants,” Joyce stated, glancing to the rest of them. Nancy stepped forward.

“If this is a virus,” The teenager began, “and Will’s the host, then...”

“Then we need to make the host uninhabitable.” Jonathon finished the sentence from his place by Will, the older brother gazing down with worry. Sal rubbed his hands together, trying to get warm. 

“So, if he likes it cold...” Nancy trailed off, and Sal glanced at Joyce, whose face was disgusted.

“We need to burn it out of him.” The woman spat. 

“We have to do it somewhere he doesn’t know this time.” Mike immediately added, and Dustin glanced at his friend. 

Dustin then said, “Yeah, somewhere far away.” Sal looked back over to the unconscious form of Will; eye narrowed. 

It wasn’t long before Jonathon and Joyce were rushing out the door, Hopper holding Will as he spoke. 

“Take Denfield, then you’ll see a large oak tree. You’re gonna swing a right. That road is gonna dead-end. And it’s about a five-minute walk from there.” Hopper’s voice was quick and informative as he put Will in the Byer’s car, Sal watching from the front door with the others behind him. 

“Okay. Denfield to oak tree. Swing a right. That’s it,” Jonathon repeated back to Hopper before adding, “But it’s channel ten, right?” 

Hopper confirmed, “It’s channel ten. Listen...you let me know when that _thing_ is out of him.” He then pat Jonathon on the chest, walking back towards the door.

“What about you?” Hopper stopped in front of Sal, and he glanced up at the man. 

“What about me?” 

The Chief rolled his eyes, “How are you going to get the thing out of you, if it is?” 

Sal blinked. He had thought it through and had concluded that the best option would be to use his own powers against him. He didn’t have time to go and question Dr Blake, so the best option would be to go with his instincts. 

He hoped. That usually worked. 

“I’m, uh, just gonna try and use my electricity against me. Burn myself or something,” Sal replied, and Hopper furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Is that even safe?” 

Sal shrugged, saying, “I don’t know. It’s the best option. We don’t know if it’s safe for me to be by Will, so I can’t really go with them.” He made his words reassuring, but Hopper still seemed...worried. 

“You’re sure?” Hopper asked, causing Sal to glance down, “I don’t want you getting hurt. I’ve seen how tired you are, kid.” 

It was weird. Sal couldn’t help but feel as though the man was being almost _fatherly_ to him, but knew practically everyone would laugh if he said that aloud. He pushed the thought away, saying, “I’m sure. I’ll be fine, it’s nothing. I’ve done worse.” 

“That’s why I’m asking,” Hopper said, but something seemed to stop him from continuing. There was a look in his eyes that made Sal frown under his prosthetic, and the Chief reached out and pat him on the shoulder before waving Eleven towards him. 

“El, come on,” The man said, walking away from Sal and down to his car. Sal stepped aside as both Mike and Eleven exited the house, the two almost tied to the hip. 

Sal sighed, closing his eye, and looking to the ground when Dustin suddenly spoke up. 

“That was weird,” The boy stated, and Lucas hummed in agreement. Sal glanced at the two, tilting his head slightly. 

“What was?” The 20-year-old questioned, and Dustin and Lucas shared a look. 

“That whole thing that just happened. Hopper being _nice_ and _considerate_ to you.” Dustin waved his hands as he spoke, and Sal heard Mike and Eleven mumbling to each other. Lucas nodded from beside his friend before continuing. 

“Yeah, in all my life I have never seen Hopper like that.” 

Sal rolled his eye, standing up properly and brushing past the two, Max standing off to the side. He could hear Hopper’s car driving off, and glanced out the window to see Nancy hopping in the car with Jonathon, Joyce and Will. 

Mike stood on the porch, staring after Eleven. The others went out and stood next to him, Sal staying in the house, everything suddenly too quiet and too dark. 

Anything could happen now. 

The first thing Sal decided to do after the cars disappeared in the distance was to go in the bathroom and lock himself in it. He needed to focus. He needed to force himself to get whatever was in him _out_. The connection to Will needed to go. It had to. 

He could hear Dustin and Steve talking in the kitchen, doing something Dustin had called scientific discoveries and bullying the older teenager into helping him do so. Sal ignored them, and slowly slid down the wall. 

He closed his eye and sought out the electricity. 

He could feel it; had been able to since the Lab. Could feel the coursing, moving, shifting feeling as though they were veins, pumping power and more. Sal couldn’t help but like it. Couldn’t help but feel like if he had it earlier, the Devourers of God wouldn’t have lasted so long. 

And then came the question, why did he have it now? What had changed?

He forced himself to ignore the questions, and soon the 20-year-old heart was beating in his throat. 

He thought of his mother, his father, Larry, Ashley, Todd, Charley, Terrence, Travis, the cult, Red-Eyes, The Endless One, all those dead, the ghosts, Alyson, Bob, pain, pain, pain. Memories and dreams. Those he couldn’t help. Couldn’t kill. 

The buzz of the electricity started to dance over Sal’s body, and he leaned against the door, trying to control it. It hummed, answering him, and wavered across him, trying to locate what he wanted to hurt. 

He thought of himself. 

It stung at first, not strong, hesitant as though testing ground. Sal breathed in shakily, and for a moment he sat like that, unsure. And then everything accelerated, and the electricity struck out. 

He couldn’t hold back his scream of pain as he felt as though he was on fire. The electricity hissed in his ear, and he reached up, ripping his prosthetic off of him to try and _breath_. To try and focus on the link, the connection to Will. He could still feel it, and he needed to fucking snap it before he somehow managed to kill himself. 

Sal could hear knocking on the door, the sound of Lucas’s worried voice, but he ignored it, pushing further. It was almost intoxicating, the pain, but he didn’t focus on that. He focussed on The Upside Down. The Mind Flayer. Will. The white flecks in the blue glow, the screeches of the worms and the growls of the monsters. 

And something snapped.

Sal let go of the electricity, and he fell against the door, his body limp. His heartbeat drummed in his ear, slow and weak. Fragile. His fingers pulsed, the power trying to come out again. He could smell the tang of blood and could feel the liquid somewhere on him. Maybe everywhere. 

He could fall asleep right now if he wanted; he could do it. Die. He could do it. 

But something stopped Sal, and he took in a deep breath, his prosthetic still by his hand. He no longer felt the odd feeling in his stomach, and the 20-year-old safely assumed that meant the link was gone. He was safe. Safe. Safe. 

Voices were still outside the door, and Sal sat up slowly, figuring he had to reassure them before the door came down. 

“I’m fine!” his voice was croaky, raspy, and the others stopped talking before they started up again.

“That didn’t sound fine!” 

“What the hell, man?”

“Open the door! What the hell!” 

Sal sighed, running a hand down his face as his blue hair fell into it. He shoved his prosthetic on, glancing in the mirror. Blood was dripping down from his right arm, and he rolled up his sleeve. 

An angry burn was on his forearm, already scabbed and bruised. A few thin scratches were over it, and blood leaked out from them. However, it was relieving, as Sal had expected worse. 

He still winced as he put his sleeve back down, and he made sure his prosthetic was secure before unlocking the door and opening it. Steve and the younger kids all stood with wide eyes, Dustin mid-knocking. His mouth gaped, and Sal half expected a fly to go in and out. 

“What?” Sal asked dumbly, and Steve spluttered.

“ _What_? What the hell, man! What was that?!” The others nodded along to Steve’s words and Sal answered, his throat still scratchy. 

“I, uh, got the connection out, like I said I would.” The 20-year-old rubbed his burn through his hoodie.

Dustin then said, “It sounded painful! What the hell did you do?” 

“I burned it out. With electricity, _like I said I would._ ” Sal couldn’t help but feel annoyed. He knew he was being dumb and senseless, and that they were obviously allowed to be worried, but he just wanted things to be _quiet_. He was so tired. He didn’t want to have to answer their questions. 

And he also needed to disinfect his burn, but they were in his way. 

Sal pushed past them as Dustin gaped like a fish, the blue-haired-boy heading for the kitchen, knowing he had seen some ice somewhere. However, he paused, staring at the emptied fridge. 

“What...what happened?” He asked, and Dustin answered from behind him. 

“Scientific discoveries.” His voice was proud but faltered when he looked over at Mike. 

Mike had quickly gotten over Sal’s antics and was pacing, his footsteps the only sound in the house. Sal watched as Lucas stared at his friend before saying, “Mike, would you just stop already?” 

The black-haired-boy halted, turning to stare at Lucas, “You weren’t in there, okay, Lucas? That lab is swarming with hundreds of those dogs.” 

“Demodogs!” Dustin corrected; Sal shaking his head at the boy. 

“The Chief will take care of her,” Lucas answered, and Max said what Sal was thinking. 

“Like she needs protection.”

“Listen, dude,” Steve said, stepping forward and Sal couldn’t help but think _here we go_ , “a coach calls a play in a game, bottom line, you execute it. All right?” 

Sal had no idea what that meant, and Mike snarked, “Okay, first of all, this isn’t a stupid sports game. And second, we’re not even in the game, we’re on the _bench_. And third, you’re not the oldest here, Sal is, so technically he’s in charge, right?”

Sal blinked, saying, “What? No, I don’t want that pressure.” 

Mike groaned, exasperation on his face and Lucas spoke up again, “And besides, it’s about who’s tallest, everyone knows that.”

“Oh, fuck off, Lucas.” 

“Hey, hey! Stop that. That’s not the _point_ ,” Steve stammered, and Sal watched, feeling entertained slightly, “Right...so my point is...” He paused, and they all waited for his answer, eyebrows raised, “Right, yeah, we’re on the bench, so, uh, there’s nothing we can do.”

“That’s not entirely true.” Dustin said, and they all turned to him, “I mean, these Demodogs, they have a hive mind. When they ran away from the bus, they were called away.”

“So, if we get their attention...” Lucas trailed off, waiting for someone else to pick up. Sal wasn’t following, and he could tell Steve wasn’t either. 

“Maybe we can draw them away from the lab,” Max said. 

Mike continued, scheming with them, “And clear a path to the gate.” 

“I think you guys are the ones with the hive mind,” Sal mumbled, but they ignored him. 

“Yeah, and then we all _die_ ,” Steve said loudly, and Dustin tilted his head. Sal shoved his hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall as his burn pulsed. 

“Well, that’s one point of view,” Dustin stated. 

“No, that’s not a point of view man, that’s a fact,” Steve replied, looking down at the boy, and Sal sighed. 

“I got it!” Mike suddenly said, walking past them and into the kitchen, pointing at one of the many pictures of the tunnels, “This is where Hopper and Sal dug their hole. This is our way into the tunnel. So...” 

Sal interrupted, feeling the odd emotion of fear in his stomach, “ _What?_ The tunnels? You seriously want to go in them?” 

Mike ignored him, the boy walking to another drawing, “Here, right here. This is like a hub.” He gestured his hands over one of the biggest spots, where all the tunnels connected. Mike continued, “So you got all the tunnels feeding in here. Maybe if we set this on fire...”

“Oh yeah? That’s a no.” Steve said, shaking his head. 

Sal stared down at the drawings, feeling cold. He didn’t know if he could go down to them again after spending a night or more surrounded by the screeches and strangling worms and flashing memories and distorted voices _andandandand_ —

“The Mind Flayer would call his army,” Dustin said, snapping Sal out of his running thoughts and bringing him back to reality. 

Lucas voice was upbeat as he added, “They’d all come to stop us.” 

“Hey,” Steve said, trying to get their attention but failing to do so. Sal spared him a glance. 

“Then we circle back to the exit.” Mike continued, and Steve tried to raise his voice. 

“ _Guys_.”

They disregarded him again, Mike saying, “By the time they realise what we’re gone—” 

“El would be at the gate.” Max finished, nodding. Sal frowned from under his prosthetic; were they actually going to do this? 

“Hey. Hey! Hey!” Steve said, finally gathering the attention whilst also clapping. He stopped, pointing around, “This is not happening.” 

“But—” 

“No, no, no, no. No buts. I promised I’d keep you shitheads safe, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing. We’re staying here. On the bench. And we’re waiting for the starting team to do their job. Does everybody understand?” Steve looked at all of them as he spoke, excluding Sal who leaned against the wall next to him, eye narrowed. The kids all looked exasperated, and the 20-year-old could already tell who was going to win this argument. He started to mentally prepare himself for the tunnels. 

“This isn’t a stupid sports game,” Mike repeated his earlier words, the others nodding at them. 

Steve pointed at Mike with the towel he got from his shoulder, “I said does everybody understand that?” He paused, looking at them, “I need a yes.”

Sal glanced at them all, but his eye widened as an engine revved, causing him to look in said direction. They all turned to face the noise, and something in Max’s eyes seemed to click. The girl rushed over to the bottom half of the window that wasn’t smashed, looking out as Lucas did the same.

“It’s my brother,” She said, voice and face worried. Sal looked at the others who all held a similar expression, and he realised he should be worried. Max continued, stammering, “He can’t know I’m here. He’ll kill me. He’ll kill _us_.” 

The engine revved twice more as it slowed, and Sal shared a look with Steve as they heard the tires screech, coming to a stop. 

Steve brushed past the lot of them and exited the house, closing the door behind him. Sal held his breath for a second, glancing at the others who all looked anxious. He felt his eyes travel down to his gun that was still at his waist. 

“Am I dreaming, or is that you, Harrington?” An unfamiliar voice asked, projecting through the broken window. 

“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants,” Steve said with a bored tone, though Sal knew the teenager was scared on the inside.

Sal heard a car door slam and heard Steve’s footsteps against the gravel as the other boy questioned, “What’re you doing here, amigo?” 

“I could ask you the same thing,” Steve paused before adding, “ _amigo_.” 

Sal watched as Dustin shared a look with Lucas, and the 20-year-old crossed his arms. 

“Looking for my stepsister,” the person replied, their voice slightly muffled, “A little birdie told me she was here.”

“Huh, that’s weird. I don’t know her.” 

“Small? Redhead? Bit of a bitch.” Sal glanced at Max, who bit her lip. 

Steve said, “Doesn’t ring a bell. Sorry, buddy.”

There was a pause before the other sighed roughly, “You know, I don’t know, this...this whole situation, Harrington, I don’t know. It’s givin’ me the heebie-jeebies.” 

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” 

Sal looked to the others by the window, shuffling his feet. 

“My 13-year-old sister goes missing all day. And then I find her with you in a stranger’s house. And you lie to me about it.” Sal breathed heavily under his prosthetic, sighing. 

Steve chuckled, though nerves were underlying it, “Man, were you dropped too much as a child, or what? I don’t know what you don’t understand about what I just said. She’s not here.” 

“Then who is that?” 

Dustin, Lucas, Mike, and Max all jumped away from the window, and Sal bit his tongue, eye wide with realisation. “Fuck,” He whispered, as it felt appropriate. 

“Shit! Did he see us?” Dustin questioned, ducking into the couch. Sal wanted to retort but instead listened for Steve.

“Oh, shit. Listen—” Steve was cut off by what sounded like a push or a shove, and Sal shared a look with Dustin. The blue-haired-boy stood up fully, hand on his gun. Mike stared at him; eyes wide. 

“I told you to plant your feet.” The other voice said as Steve groaned for a moment. 

The others quickly moved to the kitchen, and Sal stepped with them, worry coursing through him. This dude really didn’t sound nice. Sal slightly jumped as the door slammed open, drumming against the wall loudly. 

“Well, well, well.” He said, and Sal found himself recognising him. 

It was the guy from the coffee shop that one morning, the one that had glared at him for some reason. Sal narrowed his eye, watching as the teenager drifted his eyes all over them. But, for once, the eyes didn’t land on him—they landed on Lucas. 

He slammed the door shut behind him, storming forward quickly, “Lucas Sinclair. What a surprise.” He turned and looked at Max, “I thought I told you to stay away from him, Max.”

“Billy, go away,” Max said, though her voice was quiet. Sal held his breath, knowing he would have to step in if this Billy tried to hurt Lucas. Even if Sal was even more short compared to him, he still had a gun. And electricity.

“You disobeyed me,” Billy snarked, and Sal felt himself wanting to be sick. He had a sneaking suspicion the teenager was one of _those_ family members; similar to the one time he had seen Travis’s father in passing, the man scolding a scared Travis—and Sal hadn’t been able to do anything, as usual. Billy continued, “And you know what happens when you disobey me.”

“Billy.” Max tried, but he talked over her in a monotone voice. 

“I break things.” He suddenly turned, grabbing an already yelling Lucas by the collar, and shoving him against one of the shelves in the kitchen. 

The others started crying out for Lucas, and Sal ran ahead, time slowing for a second. He had a choice to make; threaten Billy with the gun, or somehow use his electricity powers to stun him rather than...kill him. He opted for the gun, pulling it out and clicking the safety off. 

“Sal!” Mike yelled, and Sal looked at the black-haired-boy as he heard the mutterings of Billy and Lucas. Mike shook his head rapidly, eyes on the gun in Sal’s hand, who gazed back at him, time still going sluggish. 

And then he heard a groan, and Sal glanced and saw that Lucas had kicked Billy where the sun didn’t shine. 

“You are so dead, Sinclair! You’re dead.” Sal’s eye widened as Billy stepped towards the boy again, when suddenly Steve walked into the kitchen, tapping Billy on the shoulder. 

“No, you are.” Steve then landed a punch square in Billy’s face, making the latter fall backwards slightly. Sal put the gun away, stepping back with the others after grabbing Lucas and dragging him with him. 

Billy started chuckling like a maniac, a grin on his face as he loudly boomed, “Looks like you got some fire in you after all, huh?” He looked Steve up and down, “I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve everybody’s been telling me so much about.” 

Sal watched as Steve pushed Billy slightly with his fingers, saying, “Get out.” 

There was a pause as they stared at each other for a second, Billy grunting as he swung another punch at Steve, who dodged it with timing. Steve threw another punch at Billy, getting him again. 

“Yes!” Dustin cheered along with Mike, “Kick his ass, Steve!” 

Sal didn’t think the fight would be in their favour for very long. 

Steve landed another punch, and another one, and Billy was leaning against the dish counter. Sal’s frowned under his prosthetic as he saw the teenager reach for something to his right. 

Billy then hit Steve with a plate, shattering it upon impact. Sal cringed, listening as the cheering suddenly turned to worried name-crying. 

“Holy shit!” Mike exclaimed as Steve crouched, holding his head, and walking away at the same time. Bill marched after him, punching him again as the others shuffled back, Mike dodging the impact of Billy’s punch just in time. 

Steve groaned, and the two entered the living room. Billy grabbed Steve’s shoulders, who struggled against him, “No one tells me what to do,” Billy snarled before he headbutted Steve with a grunt, causing the latter to fall onto the ground.

 _Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck,_ was all that was racing through Sal’s mind. Sure, he’d seen his fair share of high school fights, been in a couple during his school years but mainly losing because they were more so groups thinking they should just gang up on him, but never had Sal seen one this...hateful. 

Sal also didn’t know what to do. There was a chance that Billy would get the gun off of him and use it against Steve, and Sal couldn’t have that, so the gun was now out of options. He could use his electricity, but he didn’t know how to _fully_ control it yet. What if he killed Billy, or it decided not to work?

While his mind had been racing, Billy had gotten on top of Steve, now repeatedly punching him. Sal needed to do something, otherwise, Steve would surely end up being dead. 

But Max did something first.

The girl grabbed one of Will’s tranquilising needles, sprinted past Lucas and Mike who called out for her and shoved it into Billy’s neck. Sal watched as the teenager stood up shakily, his fists covered in blood. Steve’s blood. 

Billy turned and stared at Max, taking the needle out before stepping forward, “The hell is this?” his voice was wavering and he mumbled, “You little shit, what did you do?” He then collapsed to the ground, Sal watching with a wide eye. 

They all stared down at him as he began to laugh from his place on the floor, definitely starting to feel the effects of the sedative. Max walked over and grabbed a bat with nails in it, and Sal was about to step forward and say something but she started speaking to her stepbrother. 

“From here on out, you leave me and my friends alone. Do you understand?” 

“Screw you,” Billy murmured, and Max swung the bat down, missing him by an inch. The others flinched from the noise; Sal’s breath caught in his throat.

Her voice was raised as she yelled, “Say you understand! Say it! Say it!” 

Billy’s voice was hoarse and shadowed as he whispered out, “I understand.” 

“ _What_?” 

“I understand.” His voice was louder, stronger, pushed out, but then he fell unconscious, and Sal breathed again. 

Max let the bat clatter to the ground, the girl stomping over and snatching up Billy’s keys. The other boys watched with stunned silence, and Sal stepped forward, his forearm stinging with pain from the burn he had forgotten about. He glanced down at Steve, who was knocked out cold before Max spoke again. 

“Let’s get out of here,” She said, giving Sal a pointed look before glancing to the keys in her hand. 

Sal sighed. 

**•————•**

The engine roared as Sal drove the car. 

Max sat in the front with him, Lucas, Mike, and Dustin all cramped up in the back with an unconscious Steve laying on top of them. They all had annoyed looks on their faces, so Sal was driving well over the speed limit so they could get out of the warm, overcrowded car sooner rather than later. 

He could hear the gasoline Mike held in the back sloshing and glanced back to see Steve was waking up, small groans escaping the teenager. He had a fairly messed up face from the punches and had a moment where he thought the boy would appreciate his prosthetic. 

Dustin started murmuring to Steve, and Sal returned his eye to the road, trying to ignore a digging feeling in his stomach, the one from when Eleven had first entered the Byer home. It felt like something was wrong; as though someone was almost _watching_ him. But he disregarded it because Sal needed to focus.

“Okay, you’re gonna keep straight for half a mile,” Lucas said to him from his seat in the middle. Sal nodded, and he continued, “then take a left on Mount Sinai.”

Sal glanced at the signs along the road and nodded again, glancing at Max, who stared out the window with a distant look. 

Steve suddenly started groaning, protesting about the ‘car going too fast’ and Sal frowned, Dustin telling Steve to stop freaking out. 

“I knew he’d freak out! I told you!” Mike said to Dustin, Lucas telling him to shut up. 

“Sal, stop the car! Slow down, man!” Steve yelled over Dustin and Mike’s continued argument. Lucas began to join in on the argument, and Sal glared at Steve through the top mirror. 

“I’m not going that fast! I just want to bloody get there!” The 20-year-old snarked, and Steve opened his mouth to argue when suddenly Lucas yelled over them. 

“Oh, wait, Sal, that’s Mount Sinai. Make a left!” 

“ _What?_ ” Sal asked, eye wide as he saw they were coming in too fast. 

“Make a left!” Lucas repeated himself, and Sal muted everyone’s screams as the tires screeched, the car making a dangerous and close swerve to the left. He just missed hitting a sign and Sal hissed under his breath as the car came across a straight road, and everyone stopped screaming. 

“You drive like my freaking mum, Sal,” Dustin groaned, leaning his head against his seat. He assumed that wasn’t a compliment. 

Sal rolled his eye.

The car fell quiet for a few minutes and soon they were driving into the pumpkin field, Sal putting the car in park when they reached the hole and the slope around it. The dirt pile was still there, though Sal didn’t know why he checked. The fog had settled around the patches of the rotten pumpkin, and Sal could see the two shovels reflect in the headlights, the night sky dark above them. 

The kids quickly got out of the car, Sal following as he chucked the car keys to Max. Steve groaned as he rolled himself out of the car, and Sal glanced down at him as he protested quietly. 

“Guys,” He mumbled, standing, and leaning against the car. 

Sal grabbed a bandana and put it around his small mouth opening slit, covering the bottom of his prosthetic. He shoved some yellow gloves on, wincing as he brushed past his burn. Sal didn’t bother with the goggles the others were putting on, instead turning away from the others. He quickly took off his mask while the others were busy, putting his hair up into a messy bun before strapping his prosthetic back on tightly. 

“Oh, no,” Steve murmured again, “Guys.” 

Sal grabbed some spare rope, Mike holding some more gasoline and Max, Lucas and Dustin grabbing the other equipment. 

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Steve asked as Sal and Mike walked pass him, Sal stepping away from his outstretched hand, “What are you, deaf? Hello?” 

“We are _not_ going down there right now. I made myself clear,” Steve continued, his voice rising slightly. Sal ignored him, sliding softly down the slope, and glancing down at the whole, where a few worms had tried to mend the hole he and Hopper had made. 

Sal snatched up one of the shovels, repeatedly hitting the worms as they squealed at him. Some sort of liquid tried to fly up at him, but he dodged it, mercilessly fending off the creatures. 

Steve was now standing, “Hey, there’s no _chance_ we’re going down that hole, all right?” Lucas and Max sidestepped the wobbling teenager as he snarled, “This ends right now!” 

“Steve!” Dustin yelled, and Steve stopped his flailing as Sal watched them, “you’re upset. I get it. But the bottom line is, a party member requires assistance and it is our duty to provide that assistance. Now, I know you promised Nance that you would keep us safe,” Sal looked as Dustin shoved a bag with the bat with nails in it to the other, saying, “So, keep us safe.” 

Steve sighed, but in the end, he took the bag. 

“Okay, ready to go down? Eaten your snacks so you won’t starve to death?” Sal questioned, turning to the others waiting. Mike, Lucas, and Max each held some gasoline, and Dustin stood with a disgruntled Steve, who stared down the hole. 

“We got enough gasoline?” Sal asked, and Mike nodded. 

The black-haired boy then stated, “You’re our backup plan.” 

“Great,” Sal muttered before grabbing the rope and chucking a line of it down the hole, jumping down it without another word. He heard a mutter from Steve but ignored it, pulling out his torch and shining it around. 

The memories of his previous endeavour with Hopper flashed into his mind; the voices muttering words he couldn’t remember, the strikes of the upside down, the screeching and the wailing and the _worms_. Right now, they still slowly moved across the wall, not as many as before but still causing Sal to shift his weight from leg to leg. 

He stepped aside as Steve jumped down next with a grunt, the teenager looking around with a “Holy shit,” 

It wasn’t long before all of them were in the tunnels, the eerie sapphire glow shining around them, as well as their torches. 

“Uh,” Mike suddenly called, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s this way.” He was standing to the right of Sal, and they all gathered around the map-holding-boy. 

“You’re pretty sure, or you’re certain?” Dustin replied, and Sal bit his lip from under his prosthetic. 

Mike then shone the light at Dustin, “I’m 100 percent sure. Just follow me and you’ll know.” He went to take the lead, but Steve cut in, causing Sal to turn and look. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Steve started, “Hey, hey, hey, hey. I don’t think so.”

“What?” 

“Any of you little shits die down here, I’m getting the blame. Got it, dipshit?” Steve said, standing next to Mike now, “From here on out, I’m leading the way. Sal, you take the back, make sure nothing sneaks up on us. Come on, let’s go.” 

Sal grumbled under his breath, letting the others pass before following, Steve repeating another, “Come on. Hey, a lil’ hustle.” 

He tried to ignore the squealing in the walls and the sound of his shoes against the soggy ground.

They had been walking for a few minutes in complete silence, slowly turning to the right as the tunnels went on. Sal could barely breathe under his bandana as well as his prosthetic, but he kept quiet, gazing around with an alert eye from behind. 

“God,” Lucas suddenly stated, and Sal looked ahead to see a wider space, though it wasn’t what they seemed to be looking for. 

“What is this place?” He heard Max say and watched as Steve continued walking. 

“Guys come on. Keep movin’.” The sound of Steve’s shoes on the ground continued, but Sal glanced at Dustin to see the boy look up at the ceiling with a muffled, “What the hell?”

“Dustin, wait,” Sal tried to protest, but the gross ulcer in the top of the tunnel opened up, a puff of the gas-liquid coming out and spitting in Dustin’s face, like those that had gotten Hopper. 

Dustin fell to the ground with a scream, repeating, “Shit! Shit! Shit!” as he tried to get his bandana off in a heap of worry and squirming. Sal kneeled down next to him and tried to keep the boy steady, worry coursing through him. 

The others rushed back over with worried cries, and Dustin stepped forward a few steps before collapsing again. Sal ran after the boy and said his name, trying to get him to calm down. 

“Dustin, calm the fuck down!” Sal growled, but he continued screaming. 

“What happened? What happened?!” Steve pushed through, and Sal made way for him. 

“It’s in my mouth! Some got in my mouth! Shit!” Dustin whimpered loudly, crouching upwards and sitting on his knee’s awkwardly. The others fell quiet as the boy coughed, seeming to try and force something up. 

Sal frowned as they all shined their torches on Dustin, who sat up and looked at them, saying, “I’m okay.” 

“You serious?” Max said, already turning away as the others sighed. 

“Very funny, man. Nice. Very nice.” 

“Jesus, what an idiot.”

Sal stood up alongside Dustin, pushing the boy forward a little to reach the others as he asked them to wait. The 20-year-old glanced over his shoulder; eye narrowed as the unsettling feeling appeared once again before following. 

They walked for a little bit longer before coming across a very familiar area, which Sal could confidently assume was indeed the destination. A shiver passed down his spine as Steve halted, Sal quickly walking up to the front to look around. 

It was like a brain of sorts, a bunch of different tunnels connecting to this very space. Sal swiftly picked up one of the protruding sticks and shoved it into the tunnel they came from, making sure they would know how to exit. 

“Alright, Wheeler,” Steve said, “I think we found your hub.” 

“Drench it,” Mike stated, and they got to work. 

Sal helped to spread the gasoline, keeping an eye on the moving worms who seemed to be coming together. It wasn’t long before they were all slightly panting from moving and walking fast, and they now sat at the entrance to their way back. Sal watched as Steve glanced down at the others. 

“Are you guys ready?” He asked, his voice slightly muffled from his bandana. 

Mike was the first to say, “Yeah,” before all the others replied with an array of, “Ready.” 

Sal nodded his confirmation as the teenager glanced at him, and Steve took out the lighter. 

“Light her up,” Dustin stated, and Steve flicked the lighters’ cover-up. 

“I am in such deep shit.” He mumbled, and Sal watched as he threw the lighter, the entire room immediately bursting into flames.

Thick, hot heat emitted from it almost instantly, and Sal flinched back along with the others, coughing as the smoke hit him somehow. They held their hands up to dodge the sudden brightness, and Sal breathed heavily. 

“Go, go, go!” Steve called and they started sprinting down the tunnels, the shrieking sounds following them. Sal took the rear again, making sure to count the others in case before taking off after them. 

Steve called them all with, “Let’s go, let’s go!” and Dustin muttered out incomprehensible words from behind him as they ran. 

It was a much faster process than it had been walking there, and Sal could still hear the panicked voice of Dustin up ahead. They made a sharp turn to the right, Sal’s vision going dark then light from his wobbly grip on his torch. 

“Hey, this way!” Steve called out before questioning loudly, “How’s everything back there, Sal?” 

“Fucking peachy, Steve!” Sal replied, Mike letting out a breathless laugh in front of him. 

Mike suddenly tripped over, and Sal felt his eye widen as he noticed the worm attached to the boy’s foot, trying to slide up his leg. “Help! Help! Help! Help!” Mike called, and Sal grabbed his pocketknife, wasting no time as he cut through the thick worms. 

The others had already rushed back, and Sal quickly scrambled back as Steve started bashing on the other worms with his bat. Mike got to his feet with the help of the others, Steve dragging Sal to his feet. 

Mike reassured his friends who asked if he was okay, and they were about to continue when there was a sudden growl from behind them. Sal turned with the others; breath caught in his throat. 

An emerald Demodog stood in their path, low chitters coming from its’ throat as it crouched, looking up in the direction of Dustin, who held his arms out. 

“Dart,” the boy said, and Sal stared at him. 

“What?” He asked, his voice a breath. No one bothered to answer him, but they all tried to get Dustin to get back when he stepped forward.

Dustin shushed them, the Demodog Sal now knew as Dart staying silent. “Trust me, please,” Dustin said, causing them to fall quiet. 

Sal watched as Dart stepped forward, Dustin saying, “Hey. It’s me, it’s me. It’s just your friend, it’s Dustin,” He crouched down, and Sal prepared himself to see the kid get eaten alive, “It’s Dustin, all right? You remember me? Will you let us pass?” 

It snarled in response to the question, it’s face opening up. Sal peeled off one glove, ready to set Dart alight with electricity if he had to. 

“Okay, okay.” Dustin continued, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about the storm cellar. That was a pretty douchey thing to do. You hungry? Yeah?” The boy peeled his backpack off, Dart continuing his chitter. 

“He’s insane,” Lucas whispered and Sal nodded. 

Mike whacked the boy in the chest and Steve told them to both shut up, Sal continuing to watch Dustin. 

The curly-haired boy reached into his backpack, “I’ve got your favourite. See?” He pulled a chocolate bar out, Dart grunting and leaning forward. Dustin began to peel the chocolate before setting it on the ground in separate pieces, “Look at that. Yummy. Here. All right?” Dart started to eat, and Sal swore he saw its’ tail wag.

Dustin then started waving his hand for them to walk past, Sal following lastly as Dustin said, “Eat up, buddy. Come on. Come on. There’s plenty; I’ve got more.” 

They all managed to sneak past, and Sal watched as Dustin glanced back, putting his goggles and bandana back on with a, “Goodbye, buddy.” 

Steve whispered out more encouragement, and they continued their trek, Sal taking up the back again with another glance to Dart. 

They started running again when they got a few metres away, Sal listening to Steve’s simple, “Let’s go! Come on!” 

There was a sudden rumble in the ground, causing them to all fall to the ground as if an earthquake was happening. Sal hit his head against the wall, letting out a pained cry as his vision shook for a moment. They all got to their feet again, holding each other up, when a monstrous screech echoed throughout the tunnel. Sal felt his heart sink. 

“What was that?” Max questioned; voice worried. 

They all turned to look in another direction as another shriek continued after, Mike saying, “They’re coming. Run! Run!” 

They began to run again, Sal’s legs slightly wobbly as his head pulsed from the impact of his hit. He could hear Steve yelling again, and they turned into the most familiar pathway. 

The rope stood in the blue shine, and Lucas cried, “There, there!” 

“Come on! Let’s go!” 

“Go, go, go, go! Let’s go!”

“Come on. Come on!” 

Sal turned around to keep watch as Steve helped the kids up, his eye wide with fear as the growls and calls got closer. Max went up first, then Lucas and Mike. Dustin was about to go up, but Steve grabbed his bat instead, standing in front of them. Sal grabbed his gun in his right hand and stretched his fingers in his left hand, watching as shadows against the wall started to appear. He panted, waiting for barely a moment before the monsters were running towards them. 

Or rather around them. 

Sal watched as the monsters all ran straight past the three of them, heading in the tunnel behind them. His mouth gaped slightly behind his layers, and he bunched up next to Steve and Dustin as the Demodogs almost balled them straight over. 

He heard Mike’s quiet mumble of, “Eleven.” 

The Demodogs passed, and Sal wasted no time in pushing Dustin up, Steve then helping him climb the rope before the teenager got up with the others dragging him out. 

For a moment, they stood staring down at the hole with all equally exhausted expressions, before the headlights of the car behind them glowed, all of them having to shield their eyes from the brightness of it. 

It slowly dimmed, and Sal was sure they all felt it in that exact moment. 

The gate had been closed. 

Sal allowed himself to relax, allowed his shoulders to un-tense, allowed himself to breathe. 

But then he flew forward, missing hitting the car by an inch. He could hear the surprised yells of the others, but he wasn’t focussing on them as he slammed against the grass with a cry of pain. Sal let out a shocked pant, quickly turning his head to see something horrible. 

Red-Eye, slowly rising from the hole. 

The others scrambled away, all watching in shocked and stunned silence as His thick, smog drifted upwards, black, and obscure. Sal stared in horror as the red eyes took place, glowing their sapphire gloom. His mouth slowly manifested, revealing the layers and layers of teeth and the endless throat. His hands formed, sharp, reflecting claws protruding. His legs grew, making Him taller and taller. 

He stepped forward, movements slow and shoulders stiff as He croaked in the endless, yelling, voice He had, “ **Sal Fisher. Sal Fisher. Sal Fisher. Sal Fisher.** ”

Sal jumbled backwards, his legs not letting him move as He landed heavy feet on the ground. Steve and the others seemed to not be able to move, their bodies frozen in fear. 

“ **We’ve been** **searching for you. We have. We have, endlessly. Endlessly.** ” His tone was loud but silent, droning but swift, and Sal’s mind seemed to shake, his vision blurred and tumbling and _shakingshakingshaking_ , and the fucking monster _laughed_. 

“ **Weak, you are. We could kill you right now. We will. We will. We can’t wait. Can’t wait.** ” He stepped forward again, and His arms grew longer and longer, looking like another embodiment of a tree. He was now taller than the car, hunched over so Sal could tell he was much, _much_ bigger. His long, scarlet tongue slid out and ran along his crooked fangs, Red-Eye’s pupils slit and hungry. 

Sal screamed, his throat hoarse, as one of Red-Eye’s claws reached out and scraped against his leg. The 20-year-old struggled as the claw slowly dug deeper, and he tried to get the electricity, but his fear was chasing it away. 

Red-Eye seemed to have no emotion, but all of them at the same time. And Sal was so fucking scared. He felt like he could throw up his insides at any moment, his body physically shaking as the demon gazed down at him. 

He seemed to be about to say something, but suddenly He was pushed slightly by the leg, and both He and Sal looked to see Steve hitting it with the bat. Red-Eyes snarled and shoved the lot of them with a simple hit with his long, disfigured arm. They all flew backwards with yells and screams, and Sal cried for them. 

“Leave them alone! God! No! Don’t hurt them!” Sal screamed up at the demon, who returned his eyes to him. _Oh god._ His eyes were moving, swimming in his shape of fog, swirling around, gooey and glistening like fresh blood. 

“ **We will eat them after, Sal Fisher. We will eat them in the form of You. Sal Fisher. We have searched.** ” His voice boomed like thunder, and the car next to them shook, the ground lowly rumbling. 

“Leave them the _fuck_ alone, you fucking demon!” Sal screamed with all his might, even though his heart was beating so hard it was about to burst through his ribcage. 

Red-Eyes lowered His head, leaning so close to Sal he could feel His breath, “ **Do not insult us! We are God! We are GODS! You are weak! WEAK!** ” The demon slammed one of His hands down, making the ground tumble. Sal screamed as Red-Eyes let out the loudest roar in the 20-year-olds face, causing his ears to ring. 

“ **Sal Fisher. Sal Fisher. We have your friend, did You know? We have him.** ” Red-Eyes voice was angry, hateful and Sal felt another claw slowly drag down his right arm, over his burn, pressing hard enough for a soft trickle of blood to slide down him. Sal screamed in pain again, crying out. The demon seemed to sneer. 

“What…what friend?” Sal panted, closing his eye for a moment before opening it. 

“ **The weakest one. They brought Him to Us. He became a vessel. Todd Morrison. You left him. We took him.** ” 

Sal screamed again, “You’re lying! You’re lying! Fucking liar!” Red-Eyes roared again, louder, and louder. 

“ **Puny human! We are God! GOD! Void! You cannot stop Us, We are _YOU_!**” Sal could feel a flow of blood flow out hears, and he cried as Red-Eyes snarled. 

He took a breath as Red-Eyes continued his rant, and time around him slowed. He could hear the panicked yells of his _friends_ , and he sought out the electricity. It was humming, distant, the fear wrapped around it and strangling it. Quenching its flame, it’s ignition. Sal could feel his heart in his throat, his blood in his veins and drifting out his ears and his arm. 

“ **You think You can kill Us? We are too powerful. Your _powers_ won’t work on Us. Your powers ARE Us.**” Red-Eyes voice entered his ears again, and Sal kicked at His arms, the demon narrowing His eyes even more. 

Sal stopped moving, his breath caught in his throat as Red-Eyes started to shake, his body slowly changing into…something else. 

Sal scrambled to his feet, the grass wet beneath him as he stepped back, eye wide and about to pop out. Red-Eye slowly shifted into a person. A boy. Red hair, glasses, black eyes. 

Todd. His friend. Todd. 

Sal felt his mouth open, and he stared at Todd softly, his friend holding a frown. Sal went to reach out. His friend. His friend. Todd. 

And then his eyes went red, and Sal was staring at a _different_ Todd. Messy hair, no glasses, eyebags, red eyes. Red eyes. Red eyes. Todd stepped forward, mouth opening. 

“Why did you leave me? They took me. You left me. You killed me.” Todd’s voice was distorted, and Sal winced, covering his ears.

“I didn’t…I didn’t…” Sal whispered. 

“You didn’t what?” Todd demanded, “You didn’t _mean to_?” 

“I didn’t mean to!” 

“Liar. Liar. **L** iar. **Li** ar. **Lia** r. **_Liar_**.” Todd’s voice changed, shifting into the dark, Red-Eyes tone, and Sal stared as Todd altered into someone else. 

His dad. 

Sal didn’t say anything, feeling himself shake as he fell to the ground. 

“You could’ve tried harder.” 

His dad changed into Lisa. Then Chug. Soda, young, dead, Soda. David. C.J. Azaria. Robert. Sierra. Mrs Gibson. Mrs Sanderson. Mr Sanderson. Charley. Stacy. Meghan. Gregory. Luke. 

Sal forced himself to put his head down, breathing harshly against the ground. The voices stopped, halted, cut off. Sal heard the humming, the summon of the electricity. He latched onto it, ready to fucking _kill_ Red-Eyes, but stopped his hands from thrusting and head from fully lifting when he met the gaze. 

Terrence. 

He stood, eyes actually _concerned_ , and Sal breathed out. 

“Are you okay, good Sir?” Terrence questioned, and Sal felt anger burst through him. Anger at everything. Everything. Red-Eyes. Terrence. His dad. The cult. His mother. Larry. Ashley. Todd. Everyone. Himself. The ghosts. Addison’s Apartment. 

“Fuck you! You ruined my _fucking_ life!” Sal snarled, and the man gazed at him for a second, before vanishing. 

For a moment, everything was silent. 

And then Red-Eyes was back, a violent gaze in His eyes as He stared down at Sal, who got up from his place on the ground. The demon growled and leaned forward. 

“ **You failed Them, Sal. We have Them now. You failed Them because You were scared.** ” 

Sal nodded, whispering, “Yeah. I was scared. How could I not be? I was asked to kill everyone! I couldn’t do it.” Red-Eyes smirked, but Sal wasn’t finished, “But…the thing is. I’m _not_ scared anymore. I’m not. You can’t ruin my life anymore; I won’t let you.” 

And this time, instead of forcing the electricity out, it came to him, bursting to life. It struck out, hitting Red-Eyes. The demon screeched, hissed, spluttered and Sal screamed, pushing everything out. Everything. Anger, fear, all the things bottled up inside. All the questions, the unknown. 

The power that _Sal_ owned. 

Red-Eyes burned, His dark form gradually getting smaller as the electricity flew out in waves, striking again and again. Sal could feel his blood drip from his nose, and the ground beneath him rumbled and shook.

Steve and the others were silent from their place, staring as the demon shook, crackled. 

And then exploded, the shadowy form shattering into a thousand pieces, turning to debris. His eyes no longer glowed, fading into His fog. Red-Eyes didn’t even scream, screech or roar; He didn’t have the time. He was dead, and Sal winced as agony flew upon him, sharp and stinging. 

He could already smell the blood before he fell to the grass, eye rolling into the back of his head. 

“Sal!” A voice cried, and he felt warm arms wrap around him. His shoulders, his legs. He felt himself being carried, and time was going fast, his breaths panting. 

Oh god, he was so tired. The lull of sleep was convincing, pure. But he couldn’t let go. Not yet. Sal tried to push, to hang onto the voices that tried to pull him. 

He was being picked up again and more voices shouted, and he thought, _why is everything so gone? Where am I?_ And a voice answered him, _Gone. You’re gone. Hold on. Let go._

Ice, cold water was tipped over his head, and he jolted forward, eye open. 

Sal was somehow back in the Byer’s house, on the couch, and his entire body was shaking. His vision was blurred, but he could see shapes hovering above him, shaky faces. 

Everything hurt. 

It was like something had scratched him over and over again in different spots, and he tried to speak, but his voice was gurgled and he couldn’t _think_.

“Sal! Sal! Sal!” A gruff man yelled through the blur, grabbing his head, and Sal whimpered, leaning his head backwards again.

His ears popped, as though his head had risen above water.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god,”

“What happened? Why is he bleeding?”

“Did you fucking see that thing?! What the fuck. What the hell!”

“What the hell!”

“Oh my god. God. God.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Sal! Sal! Come on, buddy! Kid!”

“Someone get bandages!”

Sal gasped, coughing as he pushed everyone surrounding him away, flicking his mask up to only reveal his mouth and vomiting before he could say anything. He continued to vomit, his body shaking and he groaned in between, pain and pain and more pain.

The 20-year-old stopped after he had nothing left to bring up, pushing his mask back down in a hurry. He could still hear the panicked voices but didn’t reply, shoving his face in his hands, and he tried so desperately not to cry as his eye watered.

Sal slowly looked up, tilting his head to see Hopper, the man staring at him. The room went silent, and Sal croaked, “Can I get t-those bandages now?” His blood had gone cold, and Sal could feel the freezing liquid travel along his body.

Joyce softly grabbed him by the shoulders, and for the first time, Sal realised who was standing in the room with all of them. Will. He looked, well, horrible, with his dark eye bags and messy hair and pale skin. But all the same, Sal felt relief claw at him. It had worked. Things were fine. The Mind Flayer was dead. Red-Eye was dead.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Joyce gently helped Sal off the couch, and soon he was in the bathroom, his hoodie off.

The woman helped him clean and disinfect his scratches and cuts along his arms, and of course, bandage them. She also scowled at his burn but didn’t question it, and a moment later she gave him some fresh clothes, leaving him alone to change.

He got changed quickly, knowing the others would have a lot of questions, and he opened the door after doing so. Sal sighed, wishing he could have the worlds longest buffet and shower and sleep, but started walking back to the lounge room.

“And then this massive, and I mean _massive,_ monster, like, crept out of the hole! It was like ten feet tall and said it was gonna eat Sal and then turned into a bunch of people before Sal killed it. I think it was the red demon dude Sal told us about,” Dustin was talking, and Sal entered the room quietly.

“Red-Eyes,” Sal mumbled, and everyone turned to gaze at him, “His name was Red-Eyes, but he’s dead now, so it’s fine.”

Hopper stood up from the blood-stained couch and stepped over to him, “It’s fine? That didn’t look fine. You don’t look fine.”

Sal stared up at him and shrugged because frankly, he didn’t have the energy to say anything. However, he did have the strength to be surprised when he was wrapped into a hug by the Chief.

Sal hugged him back, too drained to protest. 

**•————•**

One Month Later

Sal swept the floor, Amanda talking excitedly on the phone to someone, the _Jingle Bells_ tune playing in the lobby. 

Hotel Hawkins was quiet at this time, most of the town at the Hawkins Middle School annual event, the _Snowball_. After the whole Red-Eye and Mind Flayer thing, as well as the exposing of Hawkins Lab thanks to Nancy and Jonathon, the town of Hawkins was quiet. A peaceful quiet. 

Sal had talked to Will and told him he was glad the boy was okay before he had returned to Hotel Hawkins and been embraced by a severely worried Amanda, who had brushed off his apologies, calling them nonsense and saying he didn’t need to explain himself as she could tell how roughed up he was. 

The 20-year-old had slept for what felt like a week, waking up to find it had been a whole two days, and showered until the water went freezing. He had explained himself to Dr Blake, who had thought Sal had abandoned him. 

Hopper had dropped by to see him a few times, the two mostly sitting in comfortable silence, and he had even talked to Eleven a few times, explain his past and showing her his powers, the girl quickly warming up to him.

Now, he was cleaning the hotel, his right arms burn having healed nicely, only leaving a scar behind. Most of his cuts had gone away, but a few still remanded, a constant reminder of Red-Eyes; though Sal tried to see it in a good way, as now the demon and bane of his existence was gone. 

Sal sighed, bored, as he finished up cleaning the lobby. He put the appliances away, and the 20-year-old turned to nod at Amanda, before deciding to take a breather outside. 

The cold air hit him as he stepped out, and he shoved his hands in his pockets, settling on the low steps outside the door. The wind was thin, a mere breeze in the air. It ruffled through his blue hair, and he shivered, rubbing his hands together. 

He glanced up at the night sky for a second, and for once, the memories and the pain and the flashbacks didn’t hit him. He was safe. Comfortable. 

Not alone, even if his friends weren’t with him. 

Sal was enjoying the silence, but jumped to a standing position, his heart suddenly racing as a groan sounded near him. He stood, frozen, as he listened. No other noise came after, and he was about to brush it off as his imagination when yet another groan emitted. 

Sal took a slow step forward, rounding the corner of Hotel Hawkins, and he felt his mouth gape before he was even realising who it was. A body laid on the ground, squirming slightly as if in _pain_. 

_Blonde hair…_ Sal’s thoughts trailed off, and he ended up thinking, _No. It can’t be._

Another groan, a grunt, and a head shifted up to look at him, eyes crinkled and squinting, voice shaky and raspy, “Sally Face?” 

Travis Phelps. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter!! i hope it was okay, and that you all like the cliff hanger. I've always wanted to write from Travis's pov an this just seems like a good idea, but of course if the majority don't like it I guess I can delete it? it wont be romance, as I don't and can't write romance lmao,,   
> anyway, thank you so so so much for the support and for sticking with this book, even if there wasn't an update for like 5 months! i hope this chapter met your expectations, as I couldn't do any of this without the continuous love this book has received! there will be an authors note explaining the upcoming second book, so stick around for that!   
> please comment all your thoughts or feedback, etc!   
> as always, stay safe and healthy from COVID-19 and have a good night/day!  
> \----  
> ask me anything on Tumblr! [@lacuniaa](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/lacuniaa)


	11. A/N: thanks + upcoming book!

Hello all!! 

So...huh, it's the end. This book is actually the first book I have ever finished writing. When I finished it last night I literally just sat and was like omg, wow. (Let's ignore how it's like a quarter of the word count of what an actual book should be, yeah?) But, honestly? This was so fun. I love writing Sal and I can't wait to continue writing the second book and the third after that for season 4.

I couldn't have done any of this without the continuous support you guys all displayed, as well as the lil kudos that make me so so so happy. Even if there was like a few months of no updates, you guys still stuck around, and that's what made me continue. So, once again, thank you!!! (When I told my mum that I had finished writing a book it was a little bit of an awkward explanation for me to say "no, mum, I can't publish this because that would be illegal" and then I had to explain fanfiction and oh, boy...)

Anyway, just thanks so much! I enjoyed this so much. 

Y'all can expect book 2 soon, I'm just gonna take a small break before I continue. School and basketball are also going to start up for me again on June 9th, so that might meddle with updates? But I'm hoping not. The chapters will be much longer in book 2 because I'll have two p.o.v's per chapter, so yeah, I'm excited about that and I hope you guys are too!! 

I'll post another author note when book 2 is up, but feel free to just subscribe to me if you want to know straight away because I may forget to say on here <33

Thanks again :))) I may come back and edit this entire book later one day, but for now I guess I'll have to stick with the first few shitty chapters hehe !! 

Stay safe and healthy!! xx 


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